


Bayek, Through All Time

by VampireBadger



Series: Through Time [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Although I do know Aya is going to show up because I've been waiting for her, Gen, I have no solid plans for this, I'm totally winging it, The precursors aren't happy about the Hidden Ones fighting Juno, Time Travel, Time War, probably more characters to be added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-05-21 16:25:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 71,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14918807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireBadger/pseuds/VampireBadger
Summary: Sequel to Bayek of Nowhere, Father of No One. With Juno locked away again, the Hidden Ones have had a quiet five years of peace. Of course, no peace lasts forever, and the precursors have found out how the Hidden Ones defeated Juno. They're not happy about it-now the past is waging war against the present, and Time itself may never be the same.





	1. Chapter 1

_He's in an overwhelmingly familiar room he's never been in before, sitting at a grand golden table full of strangers that he knows very well. Melodic, alien music plays from somewhere he can't see, soft enough to not be distracting, loud enough to add a certain ambiance to the setting._

_"I'm concerned about the humans," one of the men says._

_"Humans?" a woman echoes. "Why would you be concerned for them?"_

_"Not for them," the man answers. "I'm worried about them. Have you noticed? There have been more and more incidents lately of humans acting out."_

_"They'll stop soon enough," a second man says. "A few adjustments to the network should be enough to get them under control again."_

_"Some of them have become_ violent _," says the first man. "And—"_

_"And those particular humans have been put down," says the woman._

_"There will be more," the second man snaps, and for a long moment the two of them glare across the table at each other. The second man, visibly exasperated, looks up across the table._

_"What do you think, Aita?" he asks._

_And before he can figure out how he's supposed to answer—_

Elijah wakes up, panting for breath, feeling sick to his stomach and oddly displaced. He hauls himself out of bed and staggers, bent over at the waist, to the garbage can on the other side of the room. Once there, he can't hold it back any longer and vomits until nothing else comes up.

Then he eases himself to the ground, staring blankly at nothing, into the darkness of his room.

It's happening again. The dreams. They've been bothering him off and on for the last six months or so, but he hasn't had one in the last two weeks, and he'd started to hope (stupidly) that they were gone for good. And it's not just the dreams. It's the vomiting (not just when he wakes up, but for hours after), it's the feeling of not quite belonging in his own body.

When half an hour or so of thinking this over doesn't bring Elijah any new insight into how to  _stop_ it, he sighs and stands on slightly shaky legs before going about the business of cleaning out the garbage can, dragging the vomit filled garbage back out of his room, down the hall, and through the side door into the garage where the big trash can is waiting to be brought out on garbage day. His dad has no idea that this is happening. He doesn't know that Elijah's been sick, and he doesn't know that Elijah's been having vivid, recurring nightmares of becoming Juno's dead husband, Aita.

He knows Aita is the reason Sages like him exist at all. Juno's insane quest to preserve him in some form was the reason that shreds of his DNA had ended up in the human genome, ready to pop up in random people from time to time in people like Elijah. And he knows this because he  _is_ a Sage, and so there are things that he just… knows.

If only he knew why this was happening now.

He gives the garbage can a petulant kick before heading back to his room. The time on his alarm clock is a little past 5:30, way before he needs to be up for school, but he knows he won't be able to get back to sleep now. Instead, he pulls out his laptop and waits for google to load.

It's useless and Elijah already knows it's useless. The kind of information he's looking for isn't going to be something he can find on google. He's never going to be able to figure out why this is happening from the  _internet,_ but he's just… he's desperate. He's scared. He has no idea what's happening to him or why, but he  _knows_ it's bad.

Elijah slumps back in bed, back pressed against the wall, squinting into the unfriendly light of his laptop.

 _What's wrong with me?_ he types into the search bar, but of course there's no answer there, so he slams his laptop shut and stares through the darkness at the ceiling until his alarm goes off an hour later.

-/-

Layla never used to be a morning person. She  _used_ to be an avowed night owl, and slept in late almost every day to make up for the late night hours she spent in front of her computer or messing with something she should have known to leave alone. These days, however, she's practically up with the sun.

She's not sure exactly where the change came from. Maybe it's just a sign that she's maturing, learning to enjoy the early morning quiet. Her life is definitely a lot more peaceful now than it ever used to be, and Layla's a lot more at peace with herself, too.

"Khemu!" Bayek shouts, loudly enough that Layla can hear him through the wall. They don't actually share a place, mostly because Layla wants to give him and Khemu their space. Just… not so much space that she doesn't live anywhere near them. They're in the apartment next door, as a matter of fact. Layla sits in her tiny kitchen, listening to Bayek calling for Khemu to get up and get ready for school, and Khemu shouting back as he drags himself out of bed. Apart from the snatches of two thousand year old Egyptian, and the occasional noises from Senu, they sound just like any other family getting ready for just another ordinary day.

It won't be ordinary, of course. After Khemu catches the bus to school, Layla will meet up with Bayek and they'll talk over what century they want to visit today.

Ever since defeating Juno, just about five years ago now, she and Bayek had spent a good chunk of their time carefully combing through every time period they either knew or suspected that Juno had been in, making sure she hadn't left any nasty surprises behind. More often than not, she had, and so the past five years had been… well, an adventure.

It's a good life, and Layla wouldn't have wanted it any other way. She's still reflecting on this, scrolling through her phone just to see if anything interesting has happened on the internet overnight (it hasn't), when someone rings her doorbell.

"Yea?" Layla calls. She keeps her voice casual because honestly she's not that worried about someone knocking on her door, but she checks her hidden blade just to be sure. She's not taking any chances.

The knocker petulantly kicks at her door so Layla gets up, frowning, and goes to see who it is. She opens the door, and stares in total shock at the person on the other side. It's her, a slightly younger her, looking tired and worn and travel stained, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

"What," the younger Layla says, raising her eyebrows at Layla's surprise. "You paid me a surprise visit once, remember? Just returning the favor. Are you going to invite me in?"

Sheer stubbornness keeps Layla from agreeing too quickly. "How did you find me?" she asks.

"You've been using all my backdoors into Abstergo's systems," the younger Layla points out, which is true. "I just traced them back to you."

Alright, so that had been sloppy of her. Layla doesn't admit that, though. "What are you here for?" she asks instead, crossing her arms as well. Then she realizes how similar they look, standing face to face, in almost the exact same position. She uncrosses her arms and makes an effort to look more casual.

"We need to talk," the younger Layla says. "About Aya of Alexandria."

Oh. Well, shit. Layla keeps her eyes carefully focused on her own face looking back at her, if only to keep from glancing over at the apartment next door, where she can still vaguely hear Bayek and Khemu. She's not exactly sure why she's getting a vaguely antagonistic vibe off this other Layla, but she  _is_. Maybe it's just the sheer surprise of being surprised by herself in her own home. "Fine," she says, stepping back. "Come in then."

She shuts the door behind the younger Layla, and watches her studying the apartment. "Nice place," she says.

"Thanks," Layla says. They sit, by some unspoken agreement, across from each other at the table in Layla's kitchen. "So what exactly did you want to talk about?"

"I just got back from Egypt," the younger Layla says. "And… the animus. The Hidden Ones." She hunches over the table and looks suddenly vulnerable. "I really needed to talk to someone about it, and from what you said that one time we met—you made me think that you'd been through it too."

There's a pause, a long one, as Layla connects the dots. The date hits her first—somehow she's completely missed the fact that it's 2017. They've caught up to the year she left from to come to the past, and she's not really  _from the future_ anymore. She's just from another version of the present. Weird.

And then she thinks—well, things would have been very different for this other Layla. She  _only_ would have seen Aya's memories, because Bayek is walking around next door, alive. He's not a mummy.

"Okay," she says, because she's been sitting in silence for long enough. "What do you want to talk about?"

"What do I do now?" her younger self asks quietly. "How do I go back to my normal life like nothing ever happened? I want to… I don't know." She reaches with her hands, grasping at nothing. "I want to  _be_ there, I want to just… get in a plane, or something, and get out in Ancient Egypt. I  _care_ about things that happened there two thousand years ago. I want to  _help_."

There's an agonized look in her eyes, something raw and hurt and oddly personal that doesn't quite fit. It doesn't match how Layla had ever felt about her own time in the animus, but it looks like it feels familiar, somehow. Layla frowns and leans forward, studying that expression, trying to match it to a time in her life when she would have worn it herself, and after a while, it clicks.

"Shit," she says, sitting back in her chair. "You're in love with her."

-/-

Her younger self didn't stick around long. She stayed for a little while, stumbling and stuttering half formed denials before lapsing into silence. Eventually, embarrassed, she'd given Layla the address of the motel where she's staying, and left.

Which means Layla's stuck trying to figure out what to do about all this. About the fact that her alternate past self is in love with the two thousand year dead wife of her best friend. The biggest problem is that it's going to hurt Bayek if—when, because Layla won't be able to keep this a secret for long—he finds out about this. Layla still knows he loves his wife, even after everything that happened between them, even after she finally cut ties between them completely and he left her to live in another century.

And it's not just  _anyone_ that's fallen in love with Bayek's dead wife, it's  _Layla_. Ish. Sort of. Another Layla, but not one that's all that different from her, so that means she's capable of falling for Aya, doesn't it? The way things had worked out for her, she'd spent most of her time in the animus living Bayek's memories, and only one or two with Aya, and of course she's never had much interest in men, but what if things had been different, what  _if_ …

And Layla  _works_ with Bayek. He's her friend, they live next door and travel through time scraping traces of Juno off the bottom of history's metaphorical shoe. And she isn't in love with Aya at all but it doesn't matter now because apparently she  _could_ have been. If things had been different, if they'd worked out the way they did for the younger Layla…

And what about  _Khemu_? Layla can't imagine how he's going to feel about all this. She knows Bayek and Khemu don't talk much about Aya, and Khemu doesn't have all the details about what had happened between his parents. It's not fair to him, either…

"Layla?" Bayek calls before letting himself into her apartment. "Are you ready yet?"

Layla looks up, startled out of her thoughts, and for a second she tries to see him as the younger Layla would have—he barely looks out of place at all in this time and this place anymore. Sure, there are still things that catch him off guard, there's still the odd turn of phrase that he can't quite wrap his tongue around, but no one looking at him would have guessed that he's lived most of his life in ancient Egypt. And Khemu, who after all had only lived eight years there, has acclimatized so well sometimes even  _he_ seems to forget where he's come from.

"Just thinking," Layla says. "Sorry."

"What about?" Bayek asks.

"Change," Layla says. She sighs and stands up.

"You're getting a little philosophical for a Tuesday, aren't you?" Bayek asks, and Layla shrugs in answer.

"When are we going today?" she asks, just to change the subject. "The usual?" There are two or three eras where Juno seems to have concentrated most of her efforts before she was resealed in the Temple, and that's where the two of them spend most of their days now.

"No, actually," Bayek says, and Layla's almost relieved when his expression turns serious. Seeing him like that, it's a little easier to connect him to the man she first met through the animus. "You haven't been checking your phone?"

"No." She reaches way over to the ledge where she'd left her phone, and sees a missed text from Berg. He'd sent it to her, Bayek, and Desmond, and that's unusual as it is. While the rest of them have mostly stayed together during the last five years, Berg's been off doing his own thing, popping up to help occasionally but never staying for long. The text itself is only two lines long—the word  _Emergency_ , and then an address nearby.

"If he's reaching out to us, it must be serious," Bayek says, and honestly that's hard to argue with. "Desmond's already on his way over."

"Great," Layla says, and means it. She takes thirty seconds to shove her feet into her boots and grab her bag. "Perfect. Let's go."

He stops her just outside, in the hallway on their way to the stairs. "Are you sure you're okay? You seem distracted."

"Let's just find out what Berg wants," Layla says. "Then I'll be fine."

He doesn't believe her. She knows he won't even before she gets the lie out. But he doesn't push, and really that's all she can ask for. They walk the rest of the way to the address Berg had sent them in silence.

-/-

"It's normal, Desmond."

He has to literally bite his tongue to keep from sighing out loud, because he knows his dad's going to have something to say about that if he does. After mentally counting backward from ten, he says, "Dad, no offense, but I ran away from home when I was sixteen and didn't talk to you or Mom for about ten years. When you say it's normal for Elijah to be skulking around and hiding things from me, it isn't 100% reassuring."

Nothing but static over Desmond's phone for a long minute. He's a little nervous that he's gone too far. He's gotten a lot closer to his dad lately, but there are still arguments and disagreements and he just really doesn't have the time for that right now. He's only a block or two away from where Berg's waiting with some mysterious emergency, and he'd just rather not have an argument at the moment.

"He's fourteen," his dad says at last. "Of course he's going to start to want to have more of his own space and his own secrets."

"Yea," Desmond says. "Sure. But with most fourteen year olds, their secrets aren't… other people's secrets too." Because most people didn't have a Sage for a son. Most people didn't have to live with the fact that their kids  _just knew_ things they weren't supposed to. Desmond doesn't usually mind, because Elijah's never given him a  _reason_ to mind up until now. It's just… the way he's been acting…

"Talk to him," his dad says. "I think that would have done a lot of good when you were growing up, if I'd done more of that with you."

Yea. It probably would have, actually. "I'll talk to him," Desmond says. "After school today, as long as Berg's emergency isn't too horrible."

"Right," his dad says, switching gears immediately. "And tell me how that goes, will you? It can't be good, Berg showing up again after all this time."

"I'll let you know if it's anything important," Desmond says. "But I'm almost there, so I'll talk to you later." He hangs up and shoves his phone into his back pocket, trying to stop worrying about his dad and Elijah for a few minutes as he arrives at the address Berg had sent him. The door is locked but when Desmond knocks, Berg opens it almost immediately.

"You're the first one here," Berg says, instead of starting with a hello.

"Bayek texted me earlier," Desmond says. "He has to round up Layla first. They should be here soon."

Berg nods and gestures for him to follow him into what turns out to be a rented storefront. One of the advantages of being with the Templars seemed to be always having an excessive amount of cash to throw around on missions. If Desmond or some other Assassin had killed this meeting, they'd be having it at the corner table of a Starbucks somewhere.

"So what's the emergency?" Desmond asks, settling into a folding chair that's been set up near the back of the shop. It looks like it might have been an office supply store up until recently—now it's just dusty and vaguely creepy.

"I'd rather hold off on explaining until Bayek and Layla get here," Berg says, and refuses to explain anything else until (finally) the other two arrive.

"Oh good," Desmond says. "We can stop sitting around in awkward silence now."

"Awkward?" Layla echoes.

"He wouldn't tell me anything until you guys got here," Desmond says, getting up to set out a couple more chairs from a stack leaning against the wall. "But I guess now we can find out what the emergency was." He turns to Berg, who is standing with his arms behind his back, not quite looking at them.

"Well," he says slowly, when they're all sitting and looking up at him. "There has been… a development."

"Something pretty bad, it sounds like," Layla says.

Berg gives a jerky nod. "Yes," he says. "Or at least, it's something that's going to make our lives fairly complicated." He takes a breath, and then pauses.

"Well?" Layla asks.

"There's one of Juno's people here," Berg says flatly. "One of the isu."

"Oh,  _God_ ," Desmond mutters, burying his face in his hands. "Why?  _How_? Did one of them get hold of an apple or something?"

"I don't know," Berg says. "The Templars have him. I don't know anything except that this is the real deal—I haven't been directly involved yet, but from the crosstalk I've overheard, this has everyone important shaken up pretty badly. There's no doubt whatsoever in my mind that there's another isu here."

Desmond leans back in his chair, face tipped up to the ceiling. "Well," he says. Because apparently their five year stretch of quiet is officially over. "Crap."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phoooooo. (Deep breath) I tried so hard to plan this fic out before starting, and it just wasn't working at all? I have a few ideas for where this is going to go, but honestly I might just run around in circles for a while before writing myself into a hole. I apologize if that happens! I'll try not to let it get that far.
> 
> (Also, I acknowledge that I am the ACTUAL WORST at titles and summaries--I thought I was going to have more time to come up with something, then I saw the Odyssey announcement and got all excited about AC and whoops here we are)


	2. Chapter 2

_"It's not what the humans are doing now," one of the women says, and this time he almost knows her name. "It's what they are going to do in the future."_

_"You're being too charitable toward them," the woman next to her says. "They're not a threat. They are incapable of becoming a threat. They are under our control and always will be."_

_The first woman purses her lips, her expression saying clearly what she doesn't bother to say out loud. "We could at least be cautious."_

_"We have no reason to be cautious," says one of the men. "Should we be cautious of ants or dogs as well?"_

_"We do have a reason."_

_All heads in the room turn to the doorway as a new person enters, carrying something that glows dimly, wrapped in a thin piece of embroidered white cloth. They watch her in silence as she seems to drift into the room, then past them, to put her burden on the table—_

"Elijah," a bored voice says, cutting straight through his dream and jerking him back to consciousness. For a horrible moment though, he doesn't know where or who or even what he is—he's torn between  _Elijah_ and  _that man_ from his dreams. Then he recognizes, vaguely, that he's sitting in math class and that his teacher is waiting for him to give the answer to the example problem. Or, more likely, he's waiting for Elijah to admit he was asleep and has no idea what's going on.

He blinks and tries to force himself to focus, but the… dream (memory?) whatever it is takes too long to fade, and by the time Elijah is fully himself again, his teacher has made a snarky comment about his attention span, the class has laughed, and they've moved on to the next equation.

Elijah slumps again, burying his head in his hands. He's still tired from his nightmares last night, and this little catnap hasn't helped much. On top of everything else he's feeling sick again, and that doesn't fade as the class eventually winds to a close, and the bell finally rings.

Elijah peels himself off his desk and drags himself to his feet, painstakingly gathering his books into his arms. Someone touches him on the shoulder, and he looks around and slightly up to find Khemu standing just behind him.

"Are you feeling okay?" Khemu asks. "You look really off balance."

With probably anyone else in the world, Elijah would have lied. He would have pulled himself together long enough to force out a lie. Khemu isn't just anyone else, though. He's Elijah's first and oldest friend, and he'll tell him things that he won't tell anyone else, things that he'll barely admit to himself. When Elijah actually turns to look Khemu in the face, any lies he had been thinking about telling just evaporate. "What do you have next?" Elijah asks. "It's not anything interesting, is it?"

"World history," Khemu says. "And we're doing like…  _modern_  history. Like World War II. It's not even interesting."

Elijah cracks a wan smile at that. "Everything's modern history to you."

"Hey," Khemu complains, but Elijah can see that he looks relieved that Elijah's feeling well enough to joke around, even a little. "I'm not that different from everyone else anymore."

And maybe he's not, not the way he means anyway, but he'll  _always_ be special to Elijah. "Come on," he says out loud. "Let's skip next period. I… want to tell you something."

"Is it about why you've been falling asleep so much in class?" Khemu asks.

"Yea," Elijah says.

Khemu hesitates, then says, "Is it bad?"

Elijah doesn't know for sure, but he thinks so. He nods.

"Let's go," Khemu says.

-/-

There's a general air of melancholy in the dusty storefront, where Bayek, Layla, Desmond, and Berg are gathered. The news that there's a precursor here,  _another_ of Juno's people, is just too much to handle right now. After half an hour or so of fruitlessly trying to figure out who and how and  _why_ , they've been reduced to sitting in silence, not looking at each other.

"You need to get close to him," Desmond says at last, looking reluctantly at Berg.

"And let him take control of me?" Berg frowns at him, and it's fairly obvious that he has a low opinion of that plan."

"He probably doesn't have an apple," Layla points out. "You said the Templars are holding him, and they wouldn't be able to do that if he had an apple, there's no  _way_ they'd be able to hold him." She raises her eyebrows at Berg, almost challengingly. "I'm sure you can handle an unarmed man, can't you?"

He looks offended, and visibly holds himself back from glowering at her. "This is a joke to you?" he asks.

"No," she snaps. "It's not a  _joke_. It took us months to get rid of Juno, and now there's another one? Now there's a chance that more might show up? This isn't a joke at  _all_!"

Bayek decides it's probably time to join the conversation. So far he's just been listening, waiting to see what everyone else is thinking before forming a decision for himself. Now he says, "We need more information. We need to talk to someone that can tell us more about the precursors and what they want from us. Juno was crazy, but she was also easy to understand in a way. She wanted to hurt people, and she wanted to lash out at the people that threatened her. She was crazy. We don't know  _what_ this new person will want."

"But nobody knows anything about them," Berg says. "They've all been dead for thousands of years."

"The Sages would know," Bayek says, and isn't entirely surprised when Desmond stiffens defensively.

"I don't think Elijah knows anything about it," he says. "And he was already way too involved when we fought Juno. I don't want him anywhere near this new person."

"That's fine," Bayek says quickly. He can imagine how he'd feel if Khemu was the Sage. "I wasn't talking about him anyway—but the Sages from my time were helpful before. They might know something now."

" _Might_ ," Desmond says. "But I still think it would be more help to actually see this guy for ourselves before doing anything else."

"We can split up and do both," Bayek says. "Layla and I will go back to Egypt and see what the Sages have to say. Desmond, you and Berg can go see what's going on with the new isu. Berg, I assume you can get Desmond in."

"Sure," Berg says, clearly annoyed. "It's only be sneaking a master Assassin into a Templar stronghold, what could possibly go wrong?"

"Berg," Bayek reminds him quietly. "We're all on the same side here. I know that sometimes we're Assassins and Templars but right now, when there are isu involved, we're Hidden Ones. And we're all on the same team."

He fixes Berg with a disappointed look which (to his own surprise)  _works_. Berg nods and backs down. "Alright," he says. "Fine. I'll figure out a way to get him in there."

He and Desmond retreat to the other end of the shop, leaving Bayek alone near the front with Layla. "We can go now," he says. "We'll just have to go back to the apartment and get the apple first." For safety reasons, he rarely brings it with him anywhere.

Layla nods, and stands up with a small sigh. "Don't worry," Berg says quietly, giving her a small smile. "It won't be as bad this time. We know what we're doing now."

"Yea," Layla says. "Sure." And she just hopes he's right.

-/-

Elijah follows Khemu back to his apartment, because it's closer, and he doesn't feel much like walking. It's not even lunchtime, and the two of them get a few skeptical looks as they walk, but nobody bothers them. The only hard part is getting out of the school building in the first place, but they are after all, the sons of two of the Hidden Ones. It doesn't take them long to find a way to get out unobserved.

"I've been having these dreams," Elijah says, before they even get back to the apartment. He feels like he can't keep it inside any more, now that he's decided to say something.

"Nightmares?" Khemu asks.

"Yea. No—sort of."

"Okay," Khemu says patiently. "Eli, you have to pick one."

Elijah looks over at him, exhausted and exasperated. "It's a nightmare because it's  _terrifying_ ," he says, and the little flicker of surprise in Khemu's face tells him just how obvious his fear must be in his voice. "But I don't think they're just… dreams. They feel like something that really happened, but like…" He trails off, going quiet, because he's a little afraid to admit what he suspects the dreams really are.

"Eli?" Khemu prompts.

"I think they're Aita's memories," Elijah says. "Juno's husband."

"The guy who…" Khemu sort of gestures to his own face, then points halfheartedly at Elijah.

"The guy that all the Sages look like?" Elijah asks. "Yea. I don't know  _why_ I'm suddenly dreaming his memories but I swear that's what it feels like."

Khemu keeps looking at him, then looking away, and just not saying anything. He seems like he's working his way up to something, and eventually he gets there. "What—what are you remembering? Or… what is he remembering, I guess…?"

"I just keep getting snatches," Elijah mumbles. "I don't know exactly what's going on, it's… confusing, you know? It feels like it all makes sense during the dreams, I feel like I'm…  _him_. And then when I wake up and I'm me again it doesn't make as much sense anymore."

"So you really don't know anything?" Khemu asks.

"I know they're arguing about us."

"About  _us_?" Khemu repeats, instantly alarmed.

"Not us specifically," Elijah assures him quickly. "I meant  _us_ like humans in general."

"Nothing good, I guess?" Khemu asks. They're getting close to the apartment building now, and they pause as Khemu lets them in, and leads the way upstairs. "I mean, it's the isu, right? They're always bad news, and if you're… if…"

He trails off, and when Elijah looks up he sees why. "Oh," he says quietly.

Khemu's dad is standing in front of their apartment door with Layla, one hand on the apartment door. For a long moment, the four of them just stare at each other, obviously surprised. Something's wrong—something's  _obviously_ wrong, Elijah can tell from the serious expressions on the faces of the two adults.

"Aren't the two of you supposed to be in school?" Khemu's dad asks, after the silence has stretched on way too long.

"And what were you saying about the isu?" Layla adds.

"Nothing," Elijah blurts out, at almost the exact same moment as Khemu. The effect of both protests together is fully unconvincing.

Khemu's dad gives the two of them a look of supreme disappointment that makes Khemu sort of shrink into himself.

"Dad…"

"Inside," he says, opening the door and beckoning for the two of them to go in ahead of him and Layla.

"Dad," Khemu tries again. "It was a special circumstance, we've  _never_ left school early before."

Elijah doesn't feel like he really has the right to argue with his friend's dad, he feels like that's just going to make things worse. Instead of joining Khemu's protests, he sits down on the living room couch when Bayek points to it, and waits to find out how much trouble they're in.

It takes Khemu a while to calm down and stop arguing (or trying to argue, because his dad just keeps pointing to the couch and not saying anything), but eventually he's sitting at Khemu's side, in silence, waiting.

"What was that you two were talking about?" Bayek asks after a long pause. "About the isu?"

Elijah shares a quick glance with Khemu, then looks back at Bayek, confused. "Nothing," he lies.

"Elijah," Bayek says. "This is important. What do you know about the isu the Templars captured?"

Elijah blinks at him in confusion. "Nothing," he says honestly. "The Templars have one of them? There's one of them  _here_?" For a half wild moment, he wonders if it's one of the people he keeps dreaming about—one of the people Aita knew a billion years ago, or whatever. The thought makes him shiver. He doesn't  _like_ this, it creeps him out in a way he doesn't entirely understand.

Bayek and Layla share the kind of complicated look that only two people that know each other very well can share. Then Bayek looks back at Elijah. "We don't know very much," he admits. "Berg called us all together this morning to tell us that the Templars have an isu, and he's going with your father to investigate more."

"He's back?" Khemu interrupts. "Is Elina with him?"

It's a little bit of a non sequitur, but it's also a question Elijah really wants an answer to. They've kept in touch with Elina over the last five years through texts and emails and phone calls, but they haven't seen her once since they trapped Juno back in the Temple.

"I don't know," Bayek says. "I didn't see her."

"Sorry," Khemu says. He seems to realize this isn't the best possible moment to ask this question. "I'm sure we can find out later."

"So wait," Elijah says. "What are you two doing, if you're not going with Dad and Berg to find out more about this isu?"

"We're going to talk to some Sages," Layla says, then pauses before adding, "Other Sages. We think they might know more about what's going on."

And it hits Elijah then, like a bolt from the blue.  _Of course_. That's what he needs too—answers, from someone that knows what's going on. If his dreams are about Aita, then they must be tied to him being a Sage—and that means that other Sages might have the same kinds of dreams, or at least more answers. And from everything he's heard, Sages back in Bayek's time knew a  _lot_ more about how all this is supposed to work than he ever has…

"I have to go with you," he says. "I have questions too—I…" Layla and Bayek are both staring at him. "I've been having these dreams…"

He summarizes, quickly, what he's just explained to Khemu. "I know that me having dreams isn't as big of a deal as some isu showing up and being held hostage by Templars, but if you're going to look for Sages anyway, I—"

"No," Bayek says firmly. "Absolutely not."

"But—"

"Elijah, it's going to be dangerous. You're not a fighter."

"But I'll be with the two of you," Elijah says. "And anyway we're just going to  _talk_ to someone. Not fight anyone."

"Dad," Khemu says. "It's not  _that_ bad, right? It was never that bad when we lived there."

There's an awkward pause in the conversation. Elijah is pretty sure that they're all thinking the same thing, which is how to tactfully point out that technically Khemu would have  _died_ in Ancient Egypt, if Layla hadn't gone back into the past to save him.

"I'll take the second apple," Elijah says. "The one we got back from Juno. If anything happens, I can use it to come home."

"Bayek," Layla says quietly. "We should really get going."

"Please," Elijah begs. " _Please_ let me come with."

Bayek considers him for a long moment, then sighs. "Alright."

Elijah springs up, suddenly energized, as Bayek strides away into his bedroom. When he comes back a moment later, he's carrying a small item wrapped in plain cloth that Elijah  _knows_ is the other apple. Bayek hands it over and Elijah grips it tightly. "Thank you," he says. "I really… if the Sages there can help me figure out what's going on with me, I need to go."

"I understand," Bayek says, but Elijah wonders if he really does. No one ever really gets what it's like to be a Sage. He doesn't argue though, because he's getting what he wants and he's not going to let Bayek take it away.

"You guys go first," he says. Then he hesitates, as something falls into his mind. "I think it'll be easier if I can follow you," he says slowly, which is  _true_ , technically, but more importantly, he needs a second alone with Khemu to talk about the thing that he suddenly just knows.

So Bayek calls Senu, and there's a brief flare of light—then Bayek, Layla, and Senu are gone.

Elijah carefully unwraps the second apple, and lets the cloth fall to the ground. "Are you ready?" he asks.

Khemu shifts guiltily. "How did you know I was going to ask to come with you?"

"You know I just  _know_ things," Elijah says. "You want to see home again, right?"

"Yes," Khemu admits. He steps closer, so that when Elijah clenches his hands around the apple to follow Bayek and Layla two thousand years into the past, Khemu comes with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little bit worried that the first couple chapters have been more confusing than they should have been. Next chapter should start having some explanations for things though, so please stick with me. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Bayek has gotten used to time travelling. He's gotten used how it looks and how it feels, it's gotten to the point of being mundane, almost, but now—seeing Elijah  _and Khemu_  stumbling out of the apple's golden portal and into the past is something entirely different. Something in Bayek clenches at the sight of his son back here, in this time and this place, where he's already died once before.

"Khemu?" Layla asks blankly, but Bayek doesn't wait to hear whatever explanation the two of them are going to try and give. He strides across two them and wraps a hand around Khemu.

"No," he says firmly.

"Dad?"

"Khemu," Bayek says, and his voice sounds stern and unfamiliar in his own ears. He's so scared that he's wrapped all the way around fear, and now he sounds angry. Maybe he  _is_ angry. It's hard to be sure, and this isn't a great place to sit and sort through everything. "Khemu, I need you to go home, now."

"Why?" Khemu asks, making a face as he looks down at Bayek's hand on his arm. "Dad, you're hurting me."

Bayek takes a deep breath and loosens his grip. A little. He can't bring himself to let go. "Khemu," he says quietly. "You've  _died_ here. I need you to go home."

"I'm probably safer here than I would be back home," Khemu argues. "There's an isu there, remember? And here there's all of you guys to keep me safe.  _Please_. You're just going to talk to the Sages, right? I'll stay with you and you can keep me safe. Nothing's going to happen."

"He wanted to see where he came from," Elijah says, stepping up next to his friend. "Please?"

"Yea Dad," Khemu echoes. " _Please_?"

Bayek sighs and shakes his head, but he also steps back. Any other time, he might have been happy to have Khemu showing an interest in his heritage—sometimes, he worries about Khemu, and how well he fits into the twenty first century. Sometimes he wonders if Khemu even remembers Egypt anymore. He would have been  _happy_ to work something out with Khemu, if things were normal today, and there was nothing more pressing going on. But as it is…

"You came."

The voice isn't one of theirs. It comes from slightly behind the group, and all of them (except, Bayek notices a moment too late, for Elijah) jump slightly.

"Yes," Elijah says, in Egyptian, and he's gone completely still.

"Oh," Khemu says very quietly, more a breath than an actual word. Bayek lets go of him and turns in one fluid movement, positioning himself between Khemu and whoever the newcomer is, just in case he's some kind of threat.

His first confused thought is that it's Elijah standing there. True, the newcomer is older, in his mid-twenties at a guess, and far less pale. He's dressed in a simple cloth wrapped around him and tied off with a rope, but his face—his eyes. He's another Sage.

"You knew we were coming," Bayek says, relaxing only incrementally.

"Yes," the Sage says. "Which is convenient for you, because you don't have the time to waste looking for us."

"Us?" Elijah asks, stepping eagerly around Bayek so he can get a better look at the other Sage. When Bayek glances quickly over at him, he sees that Elijah's eyes are wide and his whole body is tense with excitement. "Are there more of you?"

"There are two of us," the Sage answers after a moment. "Come with me. I can show you."

"We have questions," Bayek says, as the Sage turns, gesturing for them to follow him.

"A great variety of questions," the Sage agrees. "But this isn't the time to for you to ask them or for me to answer."

Which is fair enough. They're in the middle of a small village, a scrap of almost-civilization on the edge of the desert, and it's clear that the five of them are the most interesting thing to happen here in quite some time. The few people nearby keep giving them odd looks, and Bayek feels self-conscious suddenly in his modern clothes. Normally he's better prepared for this when he time travels.

"I have clothes and camels waiting," the Sage says. "About half an hour away."

"And how far from there until we get to your safe place?" Bayek asks. "And where is that safe place, exactly?" He's more suspicious than he usually is, and he knows it must be obvious from his tone because Layla keeps shooting him  _what are you doing_ glances.

"Another hour," the Sage assures him. "Not a long ride."

Elijah grimaces as they all start walking. "I'm going to have blisters."

"Yes," the Sage agrees, with the same blunt honesty Elijah usually shows when he's explaining the things he  _just knows_. It must be strange for him to be on the other side of things, Bayek reflects. "Quite painful ones."

There's not much conversation as they head out, but Bayek can't help noticing that Khemu isn't really part of what little talk there is. He sticks close to Elijah, and occasionally whispers something to him, but doesn't contribute to the general conversation when it flares up. When they make it to the camels and the Sage starts to wordlessly hand out clothes, the boys huddle off on the side while the rest of them change. Bayek lets them have their privacy—they're thirteen and self conscious, so Bayek focuses on changing his own clothes, listening to the soft murmur of conversation behind him.

He's not close enough to hear the words, but after a minute or two he realizes with a start why it sounds  _off_ to him. They're speaking English.

Since meeting up with the Sage, they've all been speaking Egyptian. He and the Sage know the language naturally—this is Bayek's first language, and presumably the Sage's as well. Layla knows it from the animus, Elijah because he just knows things without learning them.

Khemu hasn't been here since he was a little boy. He and Bayek still occasionally speak Egyptian at home, but just—snatches, here and there. Mostly, they speak English, and Khemu hasn't exactly had a chance to learn more of his first language. Functionally, his grasp of the language is going to be at the level of an eight year old. Worse, probably. He's a  _rusty_ eight year old. No wonder he's been so quiet.

He doesn't mention it as they all reconvene around the camels. Judging by the slightly downcast expression on Khemu's face, he hadn't expected things to go like this either. Bayek arranges himself so he and Khemu are the last two to mount up, and pulls his son aside a little. "Are you doing okay?" he asks quietly, in English.

"Fine, Dad," Khemu says, not meeting his eyes.

"Because I still have the apple," Bayek reminds him. "I can take you home whenever you feel like you need to go."

"I said I'm fine," Khemu mutters. "Okay?"

"Okay," Bayek says gravely, and then helps Khemu up onto the camel before swinging himself up as well. Senu soars past overhead, and for a second Bayek feels himself flashing back to his long quest through Egypt, searching for his son's killers.

He's quietly grateful when Khemu wraps his arms around his torso, hanging on tight as the camels start off in a single file line to wherever the Sage is leading them.

-/-

Elijah keeps shooting sideways looks at the other Sage as they ride. He's never been able to control what he can or can't just magically learn, and he's never been up on a camel before. Layla lets him ride with her, grumbling something about how it's too weird to see two Sages riding a camel together. Since looking at someone else with his face is  _definitely_ still freaking him out, Elijah can understand where she's coming from.

But the camel ride doesn't last forever, and after not too much longer, they reach a cave tucked into the base of a cliff face. Bayek and the Sage take care of the camels, leading them off to a sheltered corner, where they're tied up and cared for.

"Just make yourselves comfortable," the Sage says. "There's plenty of room."

There is, it turns out. The cave isn't very large, but it's clearly been set up for several people to stay in. There's a cooking fire near the front, and Elijah wonders vaguely if that's for ventilation. Farther back is a large open area filled with clutter, and beyond that is a little warren like cluster of holes with furs set up for sleeping. A few of them look like they might have been used once, a long time ago, but not for some time. Only one bedroll looks like it's been used anytime recently, and Elijah knows instantly that it belongs to the other Sage.

"There were more of us, once."

Elijah spins around, cursing in surprise, and comes face to identical face with the other Sage. "Sages, you mean?" he asks.

"Yes."

Elijah studies him for the first time. It's not a lot of fun—there's something about watching his own face on someone else that's just  _creepy_. But he sees that the other Sage's skin is a shade or two darker than his, that he looks maybe ten or fifteen years older, and there are tired lines on his face that Elijah doesn't have. Not yet, anyway. "What happened to them?" he asks.

"Old age. Illness. An unfortunate stoning. Sages die more quickly than we are born."

"Good," Elijah says, because he doesn't really want to think about more little kids being born with their curse.

The other Sage studied him through his mismatched eyes. It was almost impossible to get a read on what he was thinking, and it was all Elijah could do to stop himself from fidgeting. Finally, the other Sage said, "What's your name?"

"Elijah," Elijah said, confused. "What does that have to do with—"

"That's your mistake." He turned and strode away.

"Wait," Elijah said. "How is my  _name_ a mistake?"

"Stay here and wait," the other Sage tells him. "Your friends came here for answers, and that needs to be taken care of first." When he glances back at him, there's a trace of sadness in his expression. "They're going to need all the help they can get."

Confused and slightly worried about what's going to happen next, Elijah retreats to one of the unused bedrolls, and sits down to wait.

-/-

When Bayek has finished taking care of the camels, he joins Layla and Khemu near the fire, and waits. He can see the Sage and Elijah—he can see the two Sages talking to each other, and it unsettles him in a way he can't quite put his finger on.

"I hope he gets back over here soon," Layla says, frowning as she looks over at the Sage. "We need some answers."

"We can spend a little bit of time here," Bayek tells her. "This is going to be complicated." More and more complicated with every new development. "And it's important." He looks up as the older Sage leaves Elijah behind, and walks over to them.

"You have questions," he says, looking at Bayek. "Don't you?"

"We wouldn't have come all this way if we didn't," Bayek says, gesturing to Layla as he says it, just to make it clear that she's as much a part of this as he is. "We need to know more about the precursors."

The Sage sighs. "That's a complicated subject."

"There's one of them in 2018," Layla says, leaning forward. "We don't have a lot of information about who he is or why he got there, but it's—it's obviously bad."

The Sage is quiet for a second, considering, before he answers. Bayek catches himself trying to read his expression, interpreting it the way he would Elijah's, before realizing there's almost nothing there to see. His whole expression is purposefully blank, impossible to get a read on. "I know very little about what you're about to go through," he admits. "You are from very far in the future."

"So you can't help us," Layla says, disappointment clear in her voice.

"I didn't say that," the Sage says. "I just have very little information to offer. Only this—" He leans forward, and scratches a series of names into the dirt. He uses Roman letters instead of hieroglyphics, which he's clearly not very familiar with. The letters are shaky and a little sloppy, but they're legible enough.

"What's this?" Bayek asks, leaning forward to be able to see them better.

"The names of the people you'll need on your side if you want to keep your time safe from the isu," the Sage says. "They're scattered, but you should be able to get to them easily enough."

"The advantage of being time travelers," Layla says, shifting closer to Bayek so she can see the names clearly too. "We know some of these people already."

Bayek nods, recognizing a few of the names—some of them are Desmond's ancestors, the same people that had helped them lock Juno away. Altair, Ezio, Haytham. They'll probably be easy to recruit. Shay Cormac is an ancestor of one of the other Hidden Ones, and a friend of Haytham's. The other names, he mostly doesn't recognize. Ratonhnhaké:ton, maybe. He's pretty sure he's heard Desmond mention him before. And Edward Kenway must be a relation to Haytham. The others are all entirely unfamiliar. Arno Dorian. Jacob and Evie Frye. And…

"Oh," Bayek whispers. " _No_."

"What is it?" For the first time, Khemu leans over to join in the conversation, trying to crane his neck far enough to see the top name on the list. Bayek's torn between stopping him or playing it down, but he waits too long and Khemu reads the name off before Bayek can make a decision.

"Amunet?" he says. "Who's that? Another one of the Hidden Ones?"

"One of the  _first_  Hidden Ones," the Sage says, and Bayek shoots him a  _shut up now_ look. He's never told Khemu what happened to his mother, and he doesn't plan to now. Maybe he should, maybe that would be the responsible thing to do, but he has no idea where to start.

"Do we really need all of these people?" Layla asks. She sounds nervous, which Bayek appreciates. At least he's not the only one worried about bringing Aya— _Amunet_  into this fight.

"Yes," the Sage says. "And I knew you would be reluctant to bring her back with you."

"We are  _not_ bringing her back with us." He glares at the Sage, who returns the look with a flat indifference.

"She's here already," he says. "Or she should be, anyway—I assume she was held up on the way."

"Dad," Khemu says. "Who is she? What's the big deal about Amunet?"

Bayek can't deal with this right now. "Don't ask me that," he says, standing up.

"Why not?"

"Layla," Bayek says, turning to her because he has no idea how to answer Khemu's question. "I need you to ride out and distract her. Keep her away."

"That's not going to work," the Sage says. "You need her."

Maybe they do. Maybe  _Amunet_ is going to turn out to be exactly who they need to stop the isu from coming back to 2018 and—well, he doesn't know what comes after  _and_ yet. That's up to Berg and Desmond to find out.

But even if they need her, Khemu most certainly does not. He doesn't need to see the kind of person his mother has become.

"I'll go," Layla says, ignoring the Sage. He very nearly glares at her as she mounts one of the camels and rides off to find Amunet. For a minute, he watches her go, but then he shakes his head and turns back to the Sage.

"Unless there's anything else you can tell us, I'm taking Khemu home with me." Layla could use the second apple to get home with Elijah when she came back.

"There's nothing else," the Sage says. "Although as you're already not listening to what I'm telling you that you need, I'm not sure why you would bother to check."

Bayek bristles. As helpful as the Sages had been when he was just starting to learn how to time travel, this particular Sage clearly dislikes him, and isn't going to give them much more help than he already has. "Alright," he says fine. "Then I'm going back with Khemu now."

The Sage nods, and turns his back on Bayek. "I'll tell your friend where you've gone when she comes back. I'll send her after you."

"Good," Bayek says. "Khemu, come on—"

"Wait," Khemu says, tripping over himself, getting his words wrong as he rushes through them. "Wait, you said—something about what… how you just said that, you meant you'll send  _them_ , right? Layla and Elijah?"

The Sage shakes his head. "No," he says. "Not yet, anyway. Your Sage has certain things he needs to learn. He is a danger to himself and to all of you as long as he stays unaware of how to control the things he knows."

"But—"

"He is going to lose his mind when the things he knows get too intense," the Sage says flatly. "He needs to stay at least long enough to learn how to protect himself. Once that's done, if he still wants to go back to you, I'll make sure he gets there."

" _If_?" Khemu echoes.

And then suddenly Elijah's there, walking past the other Sage, heading directly for Khemu. "He's right," Elijah says quietly. "Those weird dreams I've been having… they're not going to get better unless I learn more about what they mean. I need to stay here, but whatever he says… I  _know_ I'm going to come back to you guys."

Bayek turns around as they hug, giving them their privacy. There had been a time when he worried about Khemu spending so much time with Elijah, but those days are long gone. He knows he can trust the two of them to be there for each other.

-/-

When Bayek and Khemu are gone, and Layla is out looking for whoever Amunet is, Elijah takes a deep breath and turns to face the other Sage. "So what is this?" he asks. "What happens next?"

The Sage looks at him, and sighs. "You're not going to like this," he says. "No one ever does."

"Oh," Elijah says. "Okay. Great."

"You've been doing everything wrong," the Sage says. "You have to relearn how to live your life if you want to survive with your mind intact."

"Really? Ev—"

"-erything, yes," the other Sage finishes.

Elijah thinks about this. "When I told you my name earlier," he says slowly. "You said that was a mistake. And you—you never told any of us  _your_ name."

"Sages don't have names," the other man tells him. "We don't have friends, we don't have families. We cannot be individuals if we want to keep our minds intact." His eyes were sharp and almost accusatory, and for the first time Elijah really understands why people find those mismatched eyes so unnerving.

"I can't give up who I am," Elijah says. "I have a family. I have a  _life_ , and friends, and I—" He can't stand to look at the other Sage any longer. He turns away, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at it in sheer frustration. This couldn't be the answer—it couldn't  _possibly_. "There has to be something else I can do—"

"To stop the dreams?" the Sage asks.

Elijah slumps a little. "Of course you know about that," he says.

"Of course I do," the Sage continues. "I've had them myself. All Sages do. And… I am sorry. But what happens if you ignore the dreams is that Aita takes over. First you're having dreams about him, and then you're waking up and you're still thinking like your him. If enough time passes, you can't tell the difference, you don't know where or when you are. Aita's memories will take control of you, and drive you insane. Or you can give yourself up, become a Sage instead of an individual, and survive."

Elijah thinks about that, but not for very long. "That sounds as bad as what would happen if Aita… takes me over, or whatever."

"I happen to think this is better," the other Sage says. "No one else is going to be hurt because I have chosen to be a Sage. If I had given Aita a conduit into this time, I don't know what would have happened but he would have used me to hurt people."

Elijah sighs, shoulders slumping. He could almost see it happening. He could see how it would get to that point. But…

"I can't do that," he says quietly. "I can't make myself stop being me. I'm going to figure out another way."

"But—"

"And when Layla gets back, I'm going home with her."

The Sage steps back, clearly unhappy.

"Fine," he says. "Fine then. On your own head, be it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will most likely be Desmond and Berg, or Layla meeting Amunet. Any preference? I feel so guilty about how bad the first three chapters have been. >.<


	4. Chapter 4

"So what's the plan to get in here?" Desmond asks.

Berg, of course, ignores him. Desmond can't tell if he's just being rude—always a possibility—or if he's genuinely distracted. They're on a roof close to the unremarkably squat little building where Berg says the Templars are holding their new isu prisoner, considering their next move.

"Berg," he says more loudly. "Do you have a plan?"

"Not exactly," Berg says. He says it in a way that somehow still makes him sound entirely in control, like not having a plan is still part of the plan. "Here's the problem—this isn't my time, technically."

Desmond is used to this kind of talk by now. He knows that what Berg actually means in this case is that he'd come back from a few years in the future.

"There's another version of me already here," Berg says. "So I have to be careful not to draw too much attention to myself."

"Okay," Desmond says. "Sure."

Berg hesitates. "Which means," he says, as though admitting some great personal failing. "I haven't been able to get as far into the Templars as I would have liked. I don't have the same amount of influence as I had before time traveling, or as much as the me from this year has."

Desmond shrugs. "Makes sense," he says. "You're not just a Templar anymore, are you? You're a Hidden One, too." Of course… Berg hasn't been as involved as the rest of them over the past few years. After locking Juno away, he'd basically dropped out of communication with the rest of them. They'd heard from him a few times. Once or twice he'd even dropped in to help with a particularly difficult mission if he was particularly well suited for it.

"I'm still a Templar," Berg says, and it's like his whole face just shuts down, going completely blank and expressionless. "You may have turned your backs on the Assassins, but I am  _loyal_ to the Templars."

"But that's not how it—"

"Regardless," Berg says. "I don't have the access we'll need to get to the isu."

Desmond sighs, and tucks Berg's Templar issues away to deal with later. He's not sure exactly  _how_ he's going to deal with it, but the answer clearly isn't to have an in depth conversation on a rooftop across the street from where the Templars are holding an unknown but presumably dangerous precursor. "Okay," he says. "Great. Sure. So we have to start from ground zero basically, right?"

"Not quite," Berg says. "I can at least get us into the building. I've been around enough different Templar facilities to know how their patrol systems work. I'll find a hole in the security and get you in as well."

"Okay," Desmond says. "That sounds good. I can deal with that. I assume we won't have much time?"

"Probably not," Berg says. "I can only assume the guards here will be on high alert. There will probably be more than usual, unless by some  _miracle_ they haven't figured out the true value of what they have."

"Let's assume they did figure that out," Desmond says. "Because they probably did." Because anything else would just make their lives too easy, and they couldn't have that now could they?

Berg gives a little snort of laughter. "Fair enough," he says. "They probably do. Stay here, I'll be back when I know more."

"Sure," Desmond mutters, sitting back down in a patch of shadow on the rooftop. "I'll just wait here then."

He waits for quite a while.

It gives him plenty of time to think about all the things that might have gone wrong. Berg might have been found out. The isu might have done something horrible.

Berg might have just decided to let him sit here and stew for a while.

It's close to sundown when Berg finally comes back out for him. "Here," he says, tossing Desmond an earpiece. "I can move around in there without drawing attention, as long as I'm not with you, so I think it's better to stay separate for now. I'll feed you a safe route through the earpiece as you go. With that knowledge and your Assassin skills, you should be able to meet me by the precursor prisoner. We'll interrogate him together."

"Great," Desmond says, although he hasn't thought much about any kind of interrogation. He's not sure he's going to like Berg's definition of interrogation. He has a nasty feeling it's going to have a lot in common with the way Haytham deals with people he needs to get information from. And he's never been comfortable dealing with that from his ancestor. It's going to be much worse seeing it in person.

Nevertheless, he follows the plan and lets Berg guide him through the facility. He doesn't exactly have a better plan, and they  _do_ need to find out what's going on before things get any worse.

It takes a long time to get there. The Templars have this place better guarded than he'd expected, and sometimes it'll take ten or fifteen minutes just to get enough of an opening to make it down a single hallway.

Berg's leaning against the wall with a self satisfied smirk on his face when Desmond finally gets to the place where the isu is being held prisoner. "Took you long enough," he says.

"I'm surprised you waited for me," Desmond grumbles, and Berg's grin gets wider.

"I needed to get rid of the guards in the room," he says. "That took a while, but they won't be back for the next hour." He jerks his head into the room, then turns around without pausing to make sure Desmond's following him. He does, of course, because he's come all this way and he's not going to stand around waiting to be caught in the hallway.

The room inside has clearly been repurposed. Possibly from a storeroom, judging by the dusty shelves lining the walls. There's a boxy looking bed against the far wall and a man—slightly too large to be human—is stretched out flat on the bare mattress.

"Whoa," Desmond mutters, stopping dead in his tracks.

"Alright," Berg says, and it's possibly the first time Desmond's heard him genuinely surprised. "That's not what I expected."

The isu lying on the bed, knocked out or drugged or something else, has Elijah's face.

-/-

"Layla.  _Layla,_ come on! Up and at 'em."

Dee's voice in her headset jerks Layla back to attention. She'd dozed off working on some calculations, and when she looks down she's disappointed to see she's left a trail of ink across the paper. Well, that's what she got for doing her math in pencil.

"I wasn't asleep," she said, giving up on her calculations, and rubbing the stiffness from her face.

"Yea," Dee says. "Sure, right. Dreaming about your girlfriend again?"

The worst part is that Dee means it as a  _joke_ , like Layla's… interest in Aya is something she chose, or something that's somehow less real because it's about two thousand years past being relevant. "Just… animus calculations," Layla says, keeping her voice light. "No big deal."

"You just can't stop working, can you?" Dee teases. "Seriously though, Layla. It's like four in the afternoon, and you're nodding off already. You're pushing yourself too hard."

"I'm fine," Layla says. "And I'm going back in the animus."

Dee groans. "Come on," she says. "Again?"

"Hey," Layla says, standing up and stretching the kinks out. "You asked me not to go in without you monitoring me. You're online now, I'm going in."

"Layla, please." She hears Dee take a deep breath through the earpiece. It's part of her animus equipment, and she doesn't  _need_ to wear it when she's not logged in, but it cuts down on the amount of time it takes her to get back in if she just doesn't take it off.

"Yea?" Layla's already halfway through setting up her equipment.

"I want you to stop," Dee says. "Please. You're not showing any signs of the bleeding effect and that's great, but I'm worried that you're starting to get… well, addicted."

Layla stops with a hand on the animus. "I'm not addicted," she says. She hasn't told anyone other than… well, herself, about what she's been feeling with Aya. It would have been too embarrassing with anyone else.

"That's exactly what someone that was addicted would say," Dee tells her, completely unimpressed. "Come on, Layla, please."

"Okay," Layla says, although it's not okay at all. She tries to think about this logically, to give Dee a reason that she'll accept.

The facts are these.

Five years ago, when Layla first got involved with the animus project (thanks to a Templar called Lucy, who has since apparently dropped off the face of the Earth, Layla has no idea where to), she'd been warned away by another version of herself. She'd listened, grudgingly, because if there's one person she can trust to have her best interests at heart, it's herself.

After that, she'd found her way onto a mission in Egypt, with Dee. They'd been assigned to collect the remains of an Assassin's mummy found in an old tomb, but Layla had decided to use her modified animus to look into the mummy's memories herself. That mummy, of course, had turned out to be Aya.

No more than a few days into this, a Templar had shown up. Layla's… still not sure what to make of him. At first, she could have sworn it had been Berg, but she'd later found out that he was two continents away at the time, and anyway the Templar that came to Egypt had kept his face covered the whole time. She must have just been mistaken.

(Unless there's two of him, which would have seemed a lot crazier before Layla met herself for the first time)

Either way, whoever he was, he'd given some good advice. Take a sample from Aya's mummy, bring that home with the animus, and leave the rest where she'd found it. Aya got to rest in peace, and Layla got to continue her animus sessions with Abstergo being none the wiser about what she was doing.

("I know what's going to happen if you don't leave now," the man had told her. "Sigma Team will come for you, and—no. Get out of this now, while you can."

"How do you know what's going to happen?" Layla had asked.

"Maybe I've been through this before," he'd told her.)

Layla finishes her quick mental review, and decides that he's the most convincing argument. "Come on, Dee," she says. "Don't you want to know why that guy came all the way out to Aya's tomb to warn us to leave? There must be something about Aya's memories that's important."

Dee groans at length, and Layla can hear a dull thump, possibly her dropping her head onto her desk. "Fine," she says, voice muffled enough to pretty much confirm the head thumping theory. "Fine, Layla, we'll keep trying."

_Yes._

She's plugged in before Dee can change her mind.

Layla's seen most of Aya's life by now, from her childhood up to the very end. But there's always going to be holes, bits and pieces that she's missed before, and most of the time when Layla logs into the animus, she aims for these blank spots, just to see something new. She sets the animus to scan, and before long she's found one. She leans back, into Aya's mind, letting the ancient Assassin absorb her, taking control. The memory loads up around her, and she finds herself in the middle of the desert, mounted on a camel, the sun just beginning to lower toward the horizon.

And then comes the second camel, riding out of the desert straight toward her. Aya reigns her animal in, and reaches for the sword strapped to her back. She hates fighting with her bow on camelback. It looks ridiculous, and frankly it makes her a little bit nauseous. Slowly, she slides the blade out of its sheath and holds it out at her side, at the ready, waiting for the newcomer to ride closer so she can decide if he's going to be a threat.

"Wait!"

Layla desynchs and almost sends the animus crashing to the ground in her utter shock. That's  _her_.

Fighting her numb and shaking fingers, Layla reaches up to her headset, pressing it against her ear to be able to hear better. "Dee," she says. " _Dee_ , did you—" She's not sure if she's hoping Dee saw or not (because what— _what_? It's one thing to see a copy of herself here, in her own time, but it's something totally different to see herself two thousand years in the past).

"Oh my god," Dee says. "Oh my  _god_ , Layla, what was that?"

"I don't know!"

"It's you!"

"I—don't— _know_." Holy shit. "I mean… hang on. There's something I need to check."

She ignores Dee's screechy protest as she pulls off her headset, then grabs her keys and runs for her car. Dee's going to be pissed later, but Layla  _has_ to know if this is somehow connected to that other Layla. The same one whose kitchen table she'd sat at just this morning. The one she'd confessed to about how she feels about Aya.

She doesn't know what to think or how to feel, there's too much going on in her head and she doesn't know anything for sure. That's why she's going to… she needs to find out. She needs to know for sure what exactly is going  _on_ here.

When she gets out of the car and checks her phone for messages, she sees thirteen texts and two missed calls from Dee. She texts her back that she might know what's going on but she needs to ask a few questions first, then sticks her phone back in her pocket.

And freezes.

By this point, she's in the building, walking up the stairs to get to the right unit. She looks up from her phone as she heads into the hallway, and…

"Dad, shouldn't they be back by now?"

"They'll be back, just be patient."

"But it's  _time travel_ , they should just be back, right? They should—"

Layla stands there, staring with her mouth open, at Bayek and Khemu standing in the hallway outside the older Layla's door like there's nothing weird about this at all. Khemu (Layla's assuming that's Khemu—he looks a lot like the boy she's seen in Aya's memories, but… older) looks up at Layla then, and a relieved expression washes over his face.

"Layla, you're back!"

" _Back_?" she echoes, cluelessly. Then—oh yes. There's another one of her that lives here. He must be getting her mixed up with herself. That makes sense.

"Where's Elijah?"

"Who?"

"Elijah," Khemu repeats, like that's somehow going to make everything make sense. It doesn't, of course. Layla's still monumentally confused. "You were supposed to come back with him."

"I think—" She still can't figure out how they're here, but at least she has a tiny part of it figured out. "You might be getting me mixed up with, uh—there's another one of me, and I think…"

"Oh," Bayek says, stepping forward in front of Khemu. It's a quick, protective movement that he clearly doesn't give more than a second's thought to, but Layla sees Khemu scowl from behind him. "So you know about that."

"Yea. I just… don't have all the details." She steps forward, risking everything on a hunch. "I was in an animus, just a few minutes ago, and I saw myself there. Probably her, actually, I think I would know if it was really  _me_ in Ancient Egypt."

There's a slight amount of hesitation, nothing more than a crease on Bayek's expression, as he considers how to answer. Then he nods. "Yes," he says. "I'm not sure if this is the same memory you saw, but Layla—the other Layla." He gestures to her apartment door. "She's in Ancient Egypt now."

"Why."

It's not even a question, or at least it doesn't sound like one when she says it out loud. More like a command, and that's only right because Layla is  _damn well_ finished with being locked out of the loop.

Bayek sighs, and gestures for her to follow him into the room beyond Layla's. "Come inside," he says. "We're still waiting for her and Elijah to come back, we can use that tie to catch you up."

"Just like that?" Layla asks, a little surprised despite herself that it had actually worked.

"Whatever version of you that I'm dealing with," Bayek says. "I already know that I can count on you."

Wow. Okay. So clearly there's something going on there. How well does this other Layla know Bayek?

Uneasy now, Layla follows him inside, to hear what turns out to be the strangest true story she's ever heard.

-/-

Layla stops her camel several yards away from Aya. Amunet. Definitely Amunet. There's a flinty hardness to her expression that makes it pretty clear that this is a woman that believes she has nothing left to lose. She's not looking forward to a reunion with her husband, she's not grieving the death of her son. She's not even looking for revenge on the men that killed him anymore—she's thoroughly disconnected from all that.

"I have a message for you," Layla blurts, although of course she doesn't. She's just supposed to delay Amunet until Khemu's out of the way, and this is the first thing that comes to mind.

"A message? From who?"

A stream of ideas flies through Layla's mind, but in the end she says, "He calls himself a Sage," and that seems like it's the right answer because Amunet relaxes ever so slightly. "It just so happens that I'm on my way to see a Sage myself," she says. "I assume it's the same one."

"He said he'd sent for you," Layla agrees. "But now—" She decides to stay as close to the truth as she can. "But now he needs you to wait."

"Wait?" Amunet echoes, and she's visibly confused. "It sounded urgent in the message he sent me. How long does he want me to sit out here and wait for him to—"

"Not long, Layla says, because it can't possibly take all that much time for Bayek to send Khemu safely away from Amunet.

Amunet sighs, then nods and leads her camel over to a small area where there's almost enough shadow for them to sit comfortably. "Take some food, then," Amunet says. "I don't have much, but I can share what I do have."

"I've eaten," Layla says, mostly because she doesn't trust food preparation this far in the past. Sure, people ate it all the time and were fine, but Layla's never going to forget the time she was sick for a full week after something she ate in the twelfth century disagreed with her. Bayek teases her on it, but he hadn't spent seven days with a stomach flu.

"Hmm," Amunet says, and Layla watches her eyes. The other woman's body is still, almost deceptively so. It's her gaze alone that makes it clear she's still waiting for an attack of some kind. Layla is careful to keep her hands in sight as they wait, but she can't fully bring herself to relax, and that obviously bothers Amunet.

"This man knows a lot of things," Amunet says, the words a kind of opening volley.

"Too much, maybe," Layla says. She's not sure what exactly the Sage has planned, but she's a little wary after everything she's seen today.

"Oh?" Amunet says. "You know him well?"

"No," Layla says. "I'm not even really sure that there's much of a person there  _to_ know."

"What?"

"He's just… given a lot of himself up," Layla says. "I don't exactly know how to describe it. He's a weird dude."

Amunet gives her a look, one eyebrow raised.

"Never mind," Layla says. "Just… look, why are you going to see him? I know he asked you to come, but why listen to him?"

"Because he knows things that nobody else does," Amunet says, leaning back on the desert sand, supporting herself on her outstretched hands. She looks old suddenly, and tired.

"And there are things you want to know?" Layla asks, surprised. She can't imagine what those things might be. She's spent less time as Amunet in the animus than as Bayek, so maybe she's making some assumptions about her that aren't strictly true—but she would have thought Amunet would be more likely to trust spies or informants than a Sage.

Amunet seems to consider whether or not to answer, then shrugs. "There are some questions that you just can't answer the normal way," she says. "There are… people I left behind a long time ago, and I wonder…"

Layla's heart sinks, listening to this. Bayek. Khemu. Who else could she possibly be talking about?

"I try to forget about them," Amunet says. "Sometimes I can. Sometimes I don't think about them for a very long time, weeks or even months. But they always come back to me in the end, and I have to wonder… my husband was a religious man. He believed in the gods, in the weighing of your heart. He deeply believed. My son was only a child." She lifts her chin and sits up straight, as if in self defense against Layla's reaction. "I would like to think that they made it to their field of reeds."

She thinks they're both dead, Layla realizes with a start. Khemu, yes, she should have assumed that. But Bayek had just… well, he'd vanished out of Egypt and never come back, hadn't he? Maybe it makes sense for Amunet to assume he's dead—it has to be more logical than thinking he's living two thousand years in the future. "Come on," she says uneasily, getting back to her feet. "I think… I think maybe you'd better see the Sage now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm trying to circle back around to Arno/Jacob/Evie/Edward/etc, there's just too much going on with these characters xD


	5. Chapter 5

_"Listen."_

_He stands, but of course nobody_ does  _listen, and he has to say it again, slamming a hand on the table for emphasis. "Listen!"_

_They listen then, all heads turning in his direction. The arguing has gone on for hours, with no sign of compromise forthcoming. The issue at hand are the humans, and the potential threat they might or might not pose to the isu._

_To him, the answer is clear. No one is arguing that the humans are a threat_ now _. There are a few that are starting to show signs that they might one day be able to throw off their control, but most of them are still the hapless slaves they were supposed to be._

_But the future might be different, if that resistance continues to grow. And so it is to the future that they must look for their answers._

_"I will travel to the future," he says. "And find out what will become of humans. Hard, factual information is the only way to settle this argument once and for all."_

_He knows that some of them want to argue. He can see their complaints forming on their faces, mouths opening to shoot his idea down, but then one of them stands up and defends him._

_"Let him try this," Juno says, and none of them dare to argue with her._

_"I'll be back soon," Aita says, turning his back on the room. "It is time travel, after all."_

_He pulls a sphere from his bag before he's even out of the room. Technically, time travel is banned for all but the most exceptional of circumstances. It's something he's always wanted to try, though, and he's going to take the opportunity now that it's been presented to him. Aita grips the sphere tightly, focuses—_

_In a moment, he finds himself out of time, soaring above an unfolding timeline of sorts, the vast stretch of the universe twisting beneath him like a golden river. He can't quite figure out what any given point on the timeline represents, but that doesn't matter much at the moment. All he needs to be able to do is reach the future, so he can reconnoiter what the humans will become. Getting back might be a little bit harder, but that's a problem for later._

_He starts to descend, not aiming for anything in particular, but then he sees, far off in the distance… a bird. An eagle. The sight is so much of an anomaly that he can't keep himself from following, drifting farther and farther into the future._

-/-

"ELIJAH!"

The first thing Elijah is aware of is someone slapping his face, hard. He stumbles backward, trips over something behind him, and falls hard onto his ass, undignified and sprawled against the floor.

" _Elijah_ ," the voice says again, more worried and less angry this time, and when he looks up he sees Layla crouched over him, studying his face like she's looking for something. "What happened?"

"What?" The last thing he remembers is sitting around waiting for Layla to come back, and then… what was that, a dream? "Did I fall asleep?"

"I told you."

Elijah has to sort of squint and focus before he sees the Sage standing behind Layla with—oh, crap. With a woman that he just  _knows_ is Khemu's mother. Only he doesn't have enough time to think about that right now, because the other Sage is looking at him with an obnoxiously smug expression that Elijah is not in the mood for right now.

"Told me what?" he grumbles, forcing himself to sit up. Layla backs up a little to give him room, but doesn't offer to help.

"You're going to start losing yourself to Aita," the other Sage tells him. "And the only thing you can do to stop it is to deny yourself."

Only that would mean denying everyone he's ever cared about. His dad and his grandpa, the mom he's never really apologized to for the way he treated her when he was younger. Khemu, and Elina who he hasn't even seen for years, and… that's just unacceptable.

"I can't do that," Elijah says.

The Sage takes a step back. "Then you are beyond help. And I think it's time for you to leave."

Slowly, painfully, Elijah pushes himself to his feet. He faces the other Sage, meeting his gaze without flinching. "No," he says. "I'm not beyond help. I have my family and my friends to help me. I'm going to be fine."

And the other Sage says, "I  _know_ you don't believe that."

Elijah can't even argue that, because he knows what it's like to just know things are true, to have that bone deep conviction without the facts to support it. And to be right. Every time.

"Come on," he mumbles, turning his back on the Sage, repositioning himself so that he's only facing Layla and… Aya, that's her name. (Elijah  _knows_  there's another name she goes by now, but Aya is the name she went by when Khemu knew her, and Elijah is too tired and distracted to worry about anything else)

"You're coming with us," he says, looking at Aya. "Right?"

She raises her eyebrows. "I'm not entirely convinced," she says skeptically, and Elijah can't exactly blame her. She just stumbled into a multi century magical space opera. "Layla and this Sage here told me that you're gathering a force of fighters somewhere in the future—" She looks appropriately disbelieving. "But I don't see why I should be part of it."

Layla launches into an explanation about doing what's right, and the Hidden Ones and the isu, and frankly Elijah isn't listening. He walks toward them, scooping up the apple on his way past.

"Khemu's there," he says. "Are you coming?"

-/-

"Oh my god," Layla says. She's hunched over Bayek's kitchen table, desperately wishing for a drink. "Oh my god oh my  _god_."

"You're not taking this very well," Bayek says.

"How did you  _expect_ me to take it?" Layla demands, lifting her head up to glare at him. "I knew there was another one of me out there, but I didn't know she was a time traveler, like—a back in time two thousand years kind of time traveler! I figured she was just from like next week or something holy  _shit_. And you're here."

There's a sudden, brief, glow of golden light. Layla looks up at it. They all do, but she's the only one that shrieks (later, she's sure, she'll look back at that and be thoroughly embarrassed). Because it's not enough, apparently, that Bayek and Khemu are here, oh  _no_. Standing on the other end of the room, looking around with an appropriate level of caution, is Aya—Amunet—herself.

Layla wants to scream, not from fear or excitement or out of  _any_ other specific emotions, she's just completely overwhelmed.

Next to Aya is a boy that looks tired and vaguely unhappy, who looks at her and looks suddenly  _deeply_ unhappy. "Oh," he says. "Good. So this is going to be more confusing now."

"What?" Layla says, stupidly, but instead of answering the boy just vanishes. There's a brief flare of golden light and a barely audible  _whoosh_  and he's gone again, as quickly as he had appeared. Gone, into thin air.

Okay, yea, cool. That's fine. That happens, probably.

Layla barely has time to take that in though, before the boy is back, this time with…

"Oh," the other Layla says, looking over at her. "You're here?"

"I… saw in the animus, you and… I wanted to know how that was possible."

"Time travel," the other Layla says, which is totally unhelpful because at this point she doesn't actually expect it to be anything else. "You… might want to go."

"No," Bayek, sys, shifting a little to consider Layla. "We need more people on our side."

"But if there's going to be two of anyone, it might as well be someone that's competent and definitely on our side," Bayek says. He's very deliberately not looking at Amunet, and his face has the definite expression of someone that is trying to avoid making eye contact. Amunet just  _stares_ at him, and Bayek shifts under the strength of that look.

There's a short pause, which no one seems quite sure of how to fill. Then Layla shrugs, because this is as awkward as anything she's ever done in her life, but Aya—Amunet—is here, and that's all the reason Layla needs to stay. Dee would kill her just for being here, and Layla isn't looking forward to filling her in on all this. "Sure," she says, too brightly. "This will be fine. I can stay. I want to stay."

The other Layla looks at her. Layla looks back, and an unspoken understanding passes between them. Aya is here, the other woman's stare says. You have an awkwardly inappropriate crush on her, and you want to  _stay_?

And the answer, of course, is yes.

-/-

"I really don't get what's going on," Khemu mutters in Elijah's direction when the adults are all occupied with their own problems. "There's two Laylas, that's whatever, that's just time travel, but why is that other lady such a big deal?"

Judging by the incredulous look Elijah gives him, Khemu thinks maybe he's supposed to know already.

"You really don't know?"

"No," Khemu says. "I don't get why she's here, other than what the Sage—the  _other_ Sage—"

Elijah scowls.

"The other Sage said to bring her with," Khemu says, pushing on anyway. "And everyone's acting like there's some  _problem_ with her being here."

Elijah opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again and then closes it a second time.

"Elijah?" Khemu prompts.

"I don't know if I should tell you," Elijah says. "It's not my place."

Which doesn't make any sense to Khemu at all. "What's  _that_ mean?" he asks. "It's not your  _place_?"

"It's… your dad should probably be the one to explain it…"

"You have to tell me," Khemu says, with what seems to him to be impeccable logic. "You're my best friend."

It convinces Elijah, anyway, and that's what matters. "You don't remember her?" Elijah asks.

"Elijah I have  _no idea_ who she is, or what's going on or anything. Just… tell me, please. What's going—"

"She's your mom."

"What? No. What?" Khemu turns all the way around, mouth agape, and Elijah has to reach over and kind of poke it shut. After a couple seconds, when Elijah feels a little bit safer, he carefully takes his hand away.

 _"Holy shit Elijah,"_ Khemu whispers. "That's my real mom? I thought she was dead."

Elijah's too tired from everything else that's happened already today (or two thousand years in the past, as the case might be) to even try arguing with that. "It's time travel," he says instead. "Just don't worry about it."

"But she's  _right there_  and she's my mom! How am I not supposed to worry about it?"

Elijah looks massively uncomfortable, and in any other circumstances Khemu might have felt bad about it. Not now though. Not with his mom in the room and everyone acting like it's something that doesn't need to be addressed  _right away before anything else_.

Elijah grabs him by the upper arm and pulls him away. Khemu lets it happen, even though he could dig his heels in and stop it if he wanted to—he's more of a computer nerd than a jock, but Elijah is a skinny little twig and Khemu's pretty sure he's be able to hold Elijah off if he tries.

He doesn't try. He lets Elijah drag him off, into his bedroom where he goes to shut the door, and Khemu sits morosely down on his bed. "What's wrong with me?" he asks. "Why is everyone acting like this isn't a big deal and I don't… need to see her?"

"It's not your fault," Elijah says, right away. "Like… right away, it's just  _not_ your fault. I don't honestly know the whole story but—"

"But you do know something," Khemu insists. "Right? You always know something."

"Yea. I know that she's… different, I guess? She's… okay, listen." He looks at Khemu, very, very sadly. "Sometimes I know things but I don't  _understand_ them, and whatever's going on with your mom is definitely one of them. She's sort of shut herself off? She doesn't… want family anymore."

Khemu stares at him, uncomprehending. "But she has to."

"I… Khemu, look, I don't…"

Khemu scrunches himself up on the bed, feeling suddenly overwhelmed, like he doesn't want to take up too much space in the world right now. He buries his face in his hands and tries to force himself to figure this out. He hasn't thought about his mom in so long (and maybe he should have, maybe he should have asked questions or… or something, because right now he's feeling  _such_ a hypocrite right now). But the way his dad just… doesn't talk about her, the way  _no one else_ ever talks about her, Khemu has sort of just… gotten the idea that he's not supposed to talk about her either. If he's wondered about her at all, he's sort of assumed she just… went on with her life. Missing him and his dad. But she hadn't missed them? She'd just… turned her back on them, decided she didn't want them…

"I'm sure she'll want to see you now that she's here," Elijah says, but Khemu turns around and shakes his head and tries not to think about how horrible this day has turned out to be.

-/-

"Oh  _God,_ " Desmond says, with feeling.

"Quiet," Berg says, as if there's nothing wrong with finding an adult isu man with Elijah's face held hostage in an Abstergo building. "Do you want them to find us?"

"That's—" He frowns at Berg. "Did you know this is what he looks like?"

"What?" Berg looks up at him, eyebrows raised, then looks back down at the captive. "Oh. He does look a little like your son, doesn't he?"

"A  _little_? Berg, they could be twins."

"Well, we knew there was an isu that all the Sages are supposed to look like," Berg points out. "I suppose it's  _unlikely_ that this would be the isu held captive here, but obviously it's not impossible. The more important question is what we do with him now that we've found him."

"We break him out," Desmond says, blurting the words out before he can think better of them. "We can't leave him here, can we?"

"I have a feeling you're only saying that because he looks like Tyler," Berg says. "You know you don't have to be protective of him, don't you?"

"Yes," Desmond said, just a shade defensively. "I just—want to find out what's going on. And we're not going to get answers here, there's not enough time."

Berg levelled a skeptical look at him, which Desmond returned without comment.

"Fine," Berg says, giving in at last. "We'll get him out of here, but we are keeping him unconscious."

"Oh," Desmond says. "Absolutely. I want him out of here, but I don't want another Juno situation."

The two of them busy themselves finding the IV bags the Templars have been using to keep the isu unconscious, and then sneaking him out and away. It's not the most graceful of escapes, and when Berg hisses "I can't  _believe_ we're doing this," halfway through, Desmond sort of agrees with him. But in the end they're out, dragging the isu into Berg's car and speeding away as unobtrusively as possible, and at least Desmond knows for a fact that no one else could possibly be having as weird a day as they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, why do I even write sequels? They always suck. Fair warning, I will probably be abandoning this soon. I may delete this story and the other two related ones, depending how I'm feeling in a couple days. I think this fic has retroactively ruined the other ones.


	6. Chapter 6

They end up back in the empty storefront where Desmond, Berg, Bayek, and Layla had met earlier in the day. It's almost evening by now, and all four of them are exhausted with the sheer amount of impossible things they've been through.

And they're not alone, this time. There's a second Layla, younger and far more suspicious looking, standing in the corner. A friend of hers—Dee, she'd introduced herself as—stands at her shoulder, frowning at the rest of them. Then there's Aya (sorry,  _Amunet._ Desmond isn't too sure what the difference is but it seems important to everyone else), standing as far as she can get from Bayek. Senu's perched on the back of a chair, a few Hidden Ones that had been close enough to get there quickly are scattered throughout, and in the back room, a sleeping isu man with Tyler's face is hooked up to an IV bag keeping him thoroughly unconscious.

"Where on Earth do we go from here?" Layla asks, slumped back in her seat.

"The past," Bayek says. "We need to find all those people the Sage in Egypt told us would help."

"I can get my ancestors pretty quickly," Desmond says. "Do you want me to go into the past and get them?" He sort of half feels Altair stir in the back of his mind, interested. They've never actually done that before, although he's not sure why not. They have time travel, and it's not even like they don't regularly use it.

"And then the rest of us can go recruit all the people that think we're crazy?" Layla asks, and she'd sound like she was joking if she didn't also seem so tired.

Desmond sort of grins at her, and they share a moment of being way too exhausted to deal with any of this.

"Here's what I'm worried about," Bayek says, breaking up the moment. "These people that we're supposed to find, they're supposed to help us  _take out_ the isu that just showed up here, right? The same isu that we have locked up in the back room, that we could just… stab at any time?"

"There has to be more to it," Berg says. "If it was this simple, I don't think the Sage would have given us that whole list of all those people to recruit." He shakes his head. "The only way we'll find out is to wake him up and question him. It'll probably be dangerous, but I think it's our best option."

"Alright." Bayek chews that over. "So we do that first, with all of us here except for… maybe one. That way, if anything happens to the rest of us, there will be one person left to travel back in time and find the other people the Sage said we would need."

"It should be Elijah," Berg says. "He's already back at the apartment, he knows how to use the apples, and he has extra knowledge because he's a Sage. He's better suited than any of the rest of us to operating on his own."

Desmond shifts uncomfortably as he listens, because  _no he's not_. Tactically, Berg may be right. He usually is. But Desmond knows that his son needs people around him. He falls apart on his own, gets too caught up in his own head and the things he shouldn't know. Still, at least he'll have Khemu, who isn't here either. Maybe that will be enough. So Desmond stays silent.

"So we do this now," Bayek says. "Is that what this is leading up to?"

"Yes," Berg says, standing up and walking toward the back room without checking to see if any of the others are following. After a confused moment, the rest of them stand up and follow, crowding into a room that's still mostly full of boxes. There's a table at the far end that they'd hastily cleared off to make room for maybe-Aita, and the IV bag holding the drugs that are keeping him unconscious.

"It's going to take him some time to wake up," Dee points out, when all of them are crowded in close. She's on the edge of the crowd closest to the IV bag, bent over so she can read the small print on the label. "This stuff's  _potent_ , I don't care what species he is, he's not waking up any time soon."

And as if on cue, the isu gives a sudden gasp and jerks straight upward, eyes wide, painting.

-/-

"We need to go," Elijah says suddenly.

He and Khemu are still back at the apartment building, flopped back on Khemu's bed and eating a half stale box of donut holes as Khemu tries to work through how he's feeling about his mom.

"What?" Khemu says. "Wh—is this another thing you know?"

"Yea," Elijah says, scrambling off the bed. There's an apple in the other room, the adults had left one of them back here before leaving. "They're being—something's happening."

"And we're going to help?" Khemu asks.

Elijah shoots him a look.  _Them_? They haven't had any training. They're not Templars, Assassins, or Hidden Ones, they're just a Sage and an Ancient Egyptian. "We need to get out of here," he says. "I don't know how far, but—" A new flash of knowledge strikes him. "Elina. We can do a quick jump, like an hour or two, and just grab her."

"You know where she is?" Khemu asks. By now they're both in the kitchen, hovering over the apple.

"Yes? No. Kind of?" He grabs Khemu and snatches up the apple in the other hand. Right now, there's only one thing he knows with absolute certainty, and that is that they need to run, now.

-/-

Layla's near the back of the crowd, watching carefully as her older self and the others get  _way_ too close to the—whatever he's called, the isu. Something about him just makes him her skin crawl, and she doesn't want to be too close when—

When he sits bolt upright, pauses to pant for breath, and then lunges at Dee.

"No!" Layla says, stepping forward, reaching out  _uselessly_ with one arm as everyone else jumps into battle mode. "No, Dee!"

Someone grabs her, and she's so shocked and upset that she doesn't even care that it's Aya. "Come," Aya says.

Around them, the battle is—it's not so much a battle as a kind of slaughter. Nobody dies, so that's good, but as the unconscious guy wakes up and reaches out to each and every person he just kind of  _freezes_ them, turns them to stone—

Aya almost wrenches Layla's arm out of her socket as she pulls her back. The two of them are the closest to the door, which is, honestly, the only reason they get out. While the man is preoccupied with the people closest to him, she makes tracks with Aya out the door.

"He looks like the Sage," Aya says, turning to glare at Layla like this is suddenly  _her_ fault. "What is going on here?"

She's not even speaking English, Layla realizes dimly. She's speaking the same super-ancient Egyptian that Layla has spent so long listening to in the animus. She's not ready for this, she is so not ready for any of this.

"I don't know!" she says. "Why would I know?"

"Everybody else from this place seems to know what's going on," Aya says. "And you were there, talking to that Sage."

"No," Layla says. "Not me, that was—I mean it was me, but another version of me, I wasn't there."

Aya curses. "This whole thing has been a mistake," she says. "We need to get out of here."

Some vague inkling of guilt makes Layla hesitate. She's not doubting that they need to get out of the area, preferably as soon as physically possible, but while Aya just seems to be aiming to put as much distance between him and them as possible, Layla has just remembered the kids.

"We need to go back."

"To that man?" Aya asks, jerking her head back toward the store they've just left, without slowing at all.

"To the apartment," Layla says. "There were kids there, they need to know what happened."

For a second, she doesn't think Aya's going to listen. Then she falters. Maybe she's thinking of her own kid. "Alright," she says, and the two of them duck sideways along another road. This probably isn't the most direct route to the apartment, but whatever. It's only the third time Layla's ever been there.

Anyway. Plenty of time to figure out how to tell those kids that their parents just… aren't coming back.

-/-

"Wait," Khemu says, putting his hand on Elijah's wrist just as his friend reaches out to touch the apple.

"What?"

"Do you hear that?" Khemu says. "Someone's coming." He can hear footsteps, unfamiliar ones.

"Maybe they're just coming back from their planning meeting," Elijah says, perking up a little. He leaves the apple where he is, and both of them hurry back to the door. There's a moment or two of hesitation as both of them look at the doorknob, both sort of waiting for the other one to move first. Then Elijah says, "Well I guess if they were going to kill us they would have done it already," and he opens the door.

It's the younger Layla, and behind her…

Elijah steps protectively up to be next to his best friend as he spots Amunet at Layla's side. "What's wrong?" he asks. "Where's everyone else?" He already half knows—he knows that  _something very bad is happening_ , and the people they care about most are all stuck in the middle of it, but he doesn't know any of the details.

"Captured," Amunet says, and the bottom drops out of Elijah's stomach. "Or out of the equation for now, anyway."

"How?" he demands. "Were there other isu that we didn't know about?"

"No," Amunet says. "Just the one." She steps closer and Elijah feels suddenly very crowded. He wants to step back, but remembers at the last second that Khemu is there too. Elijah's not going to act like he's afraid of his best friend's mom. It would hurt Khemu too much. "And he looked like you."

"Wh—oh." It doesn't take Elijah much time to figure out that oh yeah, of course it's Aita, why would it  _not_ be Aita, why would it not be some random isu that's not connected to him at all? In that moment, with everything that's already gone wrong, it's all too easy to believe.

"He's not me," Elijah says. "And we're about to get out of here." He turns and heads back toward the apple. "Are you com…" He slows, pauses and turns back. "Khemu?"

His friend is standing stock still, in the same spot where he'd been before Elijah opened the door. "They got Dad?" he whispers, in English.

"Khemu?" Amunet repeats, too loud and too harsh. She's looking at him now, eyes narrowed, studying him as if for the first time, and it hits Elijah then that it probably is. He hasn't seen much of her, just a little here and a little in Egypt, but she doesn't' see people the way Bayek does. She just… glances and moves on, like she's trying not to get too connected to anyone.

"Can we maybe talk about this later?" Elijah says. He runs back, and hugs Khemu just to get him moving again. He shudders, and seems to get a little bit of life back. "We're going to get our friend, and then we're going… I don't know, but I  _know_ we can't be here right now, and sometimes I just know things, okay?" He hates having to explain this, especially in a rush. "And it's always right."

"There was a list?" Layla says, speaking up for the first time. Elijah gives her a slightly uncomfortable look, because this is a younger Layla and not the one he's used to (it's just  _weird_ , but then again how many people are there with his face?). "I  _think_ there was a list? Of people that were supposed to help."

"Uh…" He vaguely remembers hearing something like that, and then—

He pauses as they slide into his mind. Names, a whole list of them, and he presses them into his memory so he won't forget a single one. "The people we need to get to fight him."

"That's what they were all talking about," Layla says. "They said that was what the, uh… the other Sage told them. They acted like it was important."

The three of them look at each other for a second, Elijah and Layla and Amunet, and a kind of understanding passes between them. Elijah nods. "Well," he says. "It's a plan. But we're still getting Elina first."

He goes, again, for the apple, and this time almost manages to reach it before they're interrupted  _again_. With an almost vengeful screech, Senu flies in through the window that's always kept open for her, dives at Khemu and settles on his shoulder. It's hard to read a bird's expression at the best of time, but something in the way her eyes seem to glint tells Elijah she's with them too—the isu took Bayek, and he's going to pay for that.

A little surge of hope springs up in Elijah. "Glad you got out of there," he tells her, and this time Senu's screech is a little  _hurry up!_ He doesn't want to be interrupted again, so he reaches out for the apple. "I don't think anyone's tried to take more than one person through at a time," he says. "You might want to hold onto something."

-/-

Elina had begged to be taken with her dad when she heard he was going to see Desmond and Bayek again.

She doesn't usually win arguments, he's so  _stubborn_ , but Elina can be stubborn too when it really matters. And she wants to see her friends again. So this time, when she doesn't give in, when she doesn't stop arguing, he gives in.  _"Okay,"_ he'd said.  _"But you're staying in the hotel."_

And up until now she has. Up until now, she's been good.

Of course, up until now, she hasn't had her best friends popping in like some kind of teleportation thing. Elina's not proud of the fact that her first reaction is to scream and jump out of the bed where she's been sitting and reading on her phone.

"Elina, it's okay."

" _Elijah_?" She turns oh him and hits him in the shoulder, hard, mostly because there's other people here too and her face is flaming red with embarrassment. "What are you doing here?"

His face is dead serious, and after Elina's done punching him, he grabs her shoulders and looks her straight in the eye. "Something really bad's happened," he says, and then goes on to tell her the whole thing.

Elina's never really time travelled. A little bit, sure. She's 13 years old living in 2017, even though she was only born in 2009. Time travel. But that had been once, a long time ago, and now Elijah's talking about running around to all  _kinds_ of different centuries, recruiting people into some kind of fighting force that's supposed to help save their dads.

"Elijah," she says. "We're not some kind of heroes. How are we supposed to do this?"

His mismatched eyes meet hers. "I don't know."

Something about Elijah not knowing things has always scared her. He has this almost supernatural ability to know everything that's really important, and him admitting he  _doesn't_ know something almost feels like being told it can't be known, can't be done.

"What if we don't make it back?"

"You don't have to come," he says. "If you'd feel safer here."

She doesn't feel safe here either though, not with her dad… taken, a frozen statue, whatever that isu had done to him. Elina crosses her arms and hugs herself. "No," she says. "No, I'll go with you guys." For the first time, she looks up and past him, waving half heartedly at Khemu and taking in the other two. Layla, looking… no, that's not the same Layla, not from what Elijah has told her. And the other woman, who keeps looking at Khemu and then away again…

They're not exactly the Avengers, are they? But Elijah and Khemu are her friends, and even if she hasn't seen them in forever, they're the only people besides her dad that really matter to her. "I'll come with you," she says. "I don't know if I'll be able to help, but I'll try."

Elijah smiles at her, and it's so genuine that she smiles back, and then she lunges forward and hugs him. "I missed you guys," she says.

"We missed you too," Elijah assures her, and Elina half turns her head to gesture to Khemu to come join them. He's reluctant at first, but when he finally does join their hug, he oh so obviously needs it.

"That's your mom, isn't it?" she asks.

"I don't know what to say," Khemu says at once. "I don't even know if she knows."

"Let's get out of here," Elijah says. "We'll pick one of the people on our list to go after, get there, and then we'll help you talk to your mom before we do anything else."

Khemu nods. Perfect. It's as much agreement as Elijah can expect for right now, so he accepts it and moves on. "Okay," he says, addressing everyone else and trying to pretend he's not nervous about being the center of attention. Everyone's waiting for  _him_ to decide what to do next, and he has no idea. "We have ten people on this list that we need to recruit. We have one already." He nods to Khemu's mom. "But the other… nine, I guess, we still need to get." He thinks about it. "So we could go to twelfth century Syria, sixteenth century Italy, eighteenth century America  _or_ France, or nineteenth century England."

"Oh  _God_ ," Layla groans. She rubs her hands over her face, and it strikes Elijah how different she is from the Layla he's used to. She's only a couple years younger, but there's just something different—is it just that she never got Bayek's memories? Did he have  _that_ much of an effect on her? "It sounds so overwhelming when you list it all off like that."

"That's only five places," Amunet says.

"Some of them have more than one person there."

She considers, carefully not looking at Khemu. "Let's start by going somewhere that only has one person on your list," she says. "It might be easier to start like that."

Elijah has a vague feeling that some of them would be better than others, but he doesn't  _want_ to listen to it right now—he fights down the knowledge, because he has his own opinions about where they should go first. "Syria," he says, because Altair knows his dad  _really_ well, and he knows the apple  _really_ well, and because he'd helped him once before, when he needed him the most.

(And because, if he's being honest—he knows Altair looks a lot like his dad, and right now the horrible mental image of his dad, frozen, keeps flashing into his head and he just wants to scrub that away however he can)

"Okay," Layla says, with a shrug that says she doesn't have the knowledge she needs to understand the significance. "That's—we're walking right into the middle of the crusades?"

"Yea," Elina says. Now that the decision's been made, she looks more than ready to go. "But Elijah knows a guy, right? It'll be fine."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uggggh *headdesk* so I tried something drastic in this chapter to kind of narrow the focus onto a few less characters and maybe make the story more readable...? I don't know, that's up to you guys. 
> 
> (Side note: I am not in a good mental place to be able to read criticism right now, so I haven't been looking at comments. I know that's not a good reason to ignore whatever you guys have been saying, if anything, but it is what it is right now.)


	7. Chapter 7

Khemu appreciates that Tyler and Elina are ready and willing to help him talk to his mom for the first time since he was just a little kid. But these are weird circumstances, they don't have the time to spare for all of them to sit down and have a heart to heart.

"You guys go ahead," he tells them when they reach Syria. "I can stay here, with… if she's okay with… you know, not going with you, so…"

"Are you sure you can handle it by yourself?" Elijah asks. The three of them are a little off to one side while Layla and his mom consult with each other about something separate. Khemu's not sure what they're talking about, but they both still seem a little awkward around each other.

"Dad's a statue and there's a crazy isu with your face," Khemu says. "I feel like I should be able to handle  _this_ by myself at least, and if I can't I guess that's on me?"

"So does that mean  _I_ get to go?" Elina asks, perking up a little. "Dad always makes me stay behind when he does anything cool."

"I think we're all going to have to do… I don't know if cool is the right word for it, but we're definitely all going to have to help before this is over," Elijah says.

"Awesome," Elina says emphatically.

They switch to bickering with each other, but Khemu can't quite make himself join in with the good natured banter. He's too nervous.

"Layla," Elijah calls, and for all the world like the idea's just occurring to him now. "Do you want to come with us to talk to Altair?"

"What," Layla says. "Just the three of us?"

"I just figured we might not want to all go at once in case something goes wrong," Elijah says with a shrug. "That way we'll have some backup out here just in case."

"Pragmatic," Khemu's mom says, nodding in approval. "We'll stay here then. Will you come back this way when you're done, or should we expect some sort of signal?"

"We'll come back," Elijah says, and he meets Khemu's eyes and nods at him. Khemu gets what's he's trying to say, and relaxes a little. He nods back, because he knows his best friend isn't going to leave him here for long.

They're a little way outside of town, close enough to see it in the distance but not so close that anyone is going to just stumble onto them.

"So I notice that your friends have arranged for the two of us to be left here alone together," his mom says, when the other three have completely vanished from view.

"I…" He's not sure what to say to that. She knows she's his mom, right? It hasn't been that long since they saw each other, and… well, he hadn't exactly recognized her right off the bat, but he'd been a kid, and his memories of Egypt in general are… fuzzy at best. Vague.

"I suppose they had a good reason," she says. "We do need to talk."

Khemu wants to say it before she has a chance to say it or… or  _deny_ it, which would be worse. "Because you're my mom," he says.

She blinks and then relaxes just a little. Like maybe she hadn't completely believed it either until it came out in the open.

"…Yes," she says, drawing the word out slowly.

"You're different," Khemu says, blurting that out before he can help himself.

"So are you," his mom says, which is… honestly, that's fair. Then she says, "You're  _alive_ ," which somehow makes him feel a little guilty. Like he's done something wrong just by living.

"Yea," he says. "I mean… yea. I'm alive and I've been… here. Well, not here." He's just remembered that they're a thousand years in the past, which is also a thousand years in the future for his mom, and it's not home for either of them.

She fixes him with a look. "We thought you were dead," she says. "Your father and I tore a bloody path through most of Egypt to get revenge on the men that we…  _thought_ had killed you."

Some part of Khemu's mind shies away from what he's saying. He doesn't want to know about these things that his parents did that are somehow his fault. He knows his dad founded the Hidden Ones, but the way his mom talks about the things he did makes him really uncomfortable.

His already sketchy grasp of Egyptian wavers further, so that he doesn't catch half of what she's saying. He wonders if maybe it's some kind of self defense mechanism.

"And all this time you've been alive."

Khemu doesn't know what to say to that. "I'm  _sorry_ ," he mutters, kicking at the sand. It doesn't feel sufficient, but he's not sure what else to say.

She doesn't answer, and Khemu feels even worse.

He'd meant what he'd said earlier—she  _is_ different. He remembers… when he was young, his mother used to hold him, her warm eyes propping him up no matter how bad things got for him. She was always there. She always had a smile for  _him_ —

They stand together in silence until the other three come back, and the first thing Elijah does is meet Khemu's eyes, raising his eyebrows. Khemu shakes his head and Elijah sighs, shoulders slumping.

In a weird way, even with everything else going on, Khemu still has enough mental energy to feel  _so_  grateful that Elijah cares. He's starting to feel like his mom… doesn't. And like maybe that's his fault? Like maybe he should have asked his dad about leaving her behind, maybe he shouldn't have changed so much, maybe he should have tried harder to remember the things he used to know from the time that he was  _born_ in.

"Altair's coming later tonight," Elijah says. "He's kind of in charge? He's mentor here so he needs to set up someone else to be in charge while he's gone, but he's… he's really worried about Dad and… and everyone."

"He sent us back with food, too," Elina adds, hoisting a bag up to eye level so they can all see. "If anyone's hungry."

"Then we should make camp for tonight," Khemu's mom says.

"I can help," Layla says, looking vaguely relieved to have something to do.

The two adults head off a little way away to do… honestly Khemu isn't entirely sure what making camp entails, so he's pretty much content to sit off to the side with Elijah and Elina.

"So," Elina says, leaning forward close to him and dropping her voice. "How did things go with your mom? Was it okay?"

Khemu shakes his head and doesn't exactly look at her. "No," he says. "It was weird and I think I messed something up and she probably doesn't like me any more, so… so I guess that's how things went."

"She doesn't  _like_ you?" Elina asks.

"Why wouldn't she like you?" Elijah adds.

"Because I'm not—you know. Like her. I'm just a—I don't know. I wouldn't last one day in Egypt, would I? I just wanna… I don't know. Screw around on the internet and talk to you guys all day, right? I don't want to..." He looks down at the dusty ground underneath them, and pretends it's the blowing sand that's making his eyes water. "I don't want to live out in the desert and do whatever Mom's been doing, that kind of stuff…"

He trails off, voice getting progressively quieter and quieter until finally he just kind of stops, realizing he has no idea how to say what he's trying to say and there's no point in going on.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with being happy where you are," Elina says. "Especially because staying in Egypt would have meant you like…  _died_." Her eyes are very wide as she stares at him. "Khemu, I am  _really_ glad you didn't die, okay? And if your mom doesn't see that, it's  _her_ problem. Not yours."

"No," Khemu says. "But that's where I was supposed to be, isn't it? And being in the present… future, I guess… it just means I'm in the wrong place."

"You're exactly where you're supposed to be," Elijah says. "Trust me, I  _know_ it."

Khemu gives him a skeptical look. "Is that a Sage thing you know?" he asks. "Or are you just trying to make me feel better?"

Maybe it's a good thing Elijah doesn't answer, just drops his gaze and pretends he hadn't heard him in the first place. He's just not sure which answer would actually make him feel  _better_ about all this.

"Just focus on saving everyone from the crazy isu," Elina offers. "That should probably take your mind off your mom, right?"

Khemu sighs and Elijah groans, flopping backward onto the dirt.

-/-

It's dark by the time Altair arrives that night, but Elijah can tell he's almost there when Senu starts to get excited. She has the best eyesight out of all of them, and sometimes he wonders if she can see the same way his dad can, with eagle vision. Well… obviously she  _is_ an eagle, so everything she sees pretty much is eagle vision, just by definition. But the way his dad has described it in the past, it almost sounds like something kind of mystical.

He's sort of jealous. It's something his dad and  _so many_ of his ancestors can do, but for some reason it's just skipped past him.

Senu gives a soft screech, and Elijah shakes off his angst and stands up. Khemu's already miserable enough having his mom around, he can't sit around angsting too…

By the time his ancestor has arrived, Elijah has pretty much pulled himself together. Senu's perched on his shoulder, a calming reminder that not everything is strange and weird. Some things are still normal, like… well, like his time traveling best friend's ridiculously intelligent bird.

"Elijah," Altair says, his face and voice so completely serious that Elijah feels a tiny bit intimidated.

"Hey," he says, and then winces at how casual his response sounds in comparison. "So… thank you for coming."

"Of course."

Elijah gestures for him to follow back toward where the rest of them are waiting, and Altair falls obligingly into step beside him. "So do you think you can come with us?" he asks. "I guess… you're supposed to help."

"Supposed to?"

"Yea," Elijah mutters. He's tired, and he's very fully aware that this explanation is just going to make him sound crazy. "Another Sage had this list of people that he just  _knew_ was supposed to help, and then after a while I knew it too, so maybe it was contagious or something, I don't… yea I don't really get how it works."

Altair gives him a sympathetic look. "You will," he says. "When the time is right, you will understand."

They're still a little way off from the camp, so Elijah feels safe enough when he turns to him, stopping in his tracks. "But how do you know that?" he asks, voice half rising into a whine. "I can't control how I know things or when I know them, I don't even know  _how_ I know them—"

"There is a difference," Altair says. "Between knowing something and understanding something. You are blessed, or maybe cursed, to know things without any effort to learn them. Like everybody else, though, you have to work to  _understand_ them. And because of what I have seen of you through your father, I believe that you will understand how this all comes together, when the time is right."

Elijah isn't sure he's right, because he feels completely lost. He feels adrift, because all he has is this list in his head of people that are supposed to help, but he doesn't even know what they're supposed to help  _with_. Are they going to kill Aita? Send him home? Something else entirely?

…and then in the back of his mind, there's this question of how exactly this  _knowing_ works. If it's something that's tied to Aita, then can he even trust the things he knows right now? Maybe not. Probably not. But the idea of not being able to do anything is so much worse than maybe doing something wrong that Elijah can't make himself bring up that worry to anybody else.

"So will you come with us?" he asks again. "Until I guess… I can figure out how to understand this stuff I know?"

"I can't leave here for long," Altair says. "Even if you could make it seem like no time at all had passed, I would know. And I have a responsibility to the Assassins here."

"Oh." Elijah... hadn't expected that answer. "You won't help?"

Altair gives him a small smile. "You have a list of people you need to gather," he reminds him. "Go to each one in turn, and convince them to follow you."

Elijah fidgets. Follow  _him_? That sounds... he wouldn't even follow himself, how is he supposed to convince anyone else?

Altair continues. Apparently, he doesn't share Elijah's concerns. "When everyone has agreed to help you, take us all to the future. I'll help you to fight then, but for now..." They're close enough to the camp to see the others. Khemu, Elina, Layla, and Amunet. Altair nods at them. "This is  _your_ mission."

-/-

Aita extricates himself, carefully, from the crowd of people that had been standing over him when he first woke up. Not people, not exactly—humans. And the way they'd been looking at him makes him feel pretty sure they hadn't been planning to make friends.

Now they're gathered there, frozen in place, where they will  _remain_ until Aita figures out… well, until he figures out what exactly he's supposed to do with this.

He's here to find out what will become of humans. Whether these creatures, carefully designed and controlled to serve the isu, will ever be a credible threat. And judging by what he's seeing here—an entire civilization of humans, and not an isu in sight—Aita has to assume the answer is  _yes_. Yes, they will become a threat, and a deadly one.

The isu are gone. Aita's people are  _gone_ , replaced by humans. And to make matters worse, since he got here he's been drugged and captured, and he can only imagine what they were planning on doing to him when he woke up, if he hadn't frozen them first.

This is wrong, and he doesn't know what to do about it. Go home, and report back that he's found out humans are dangerous, and they need to wipe them out before it's too late? He's pretty sure that would be the first reaction of just about anyone back home, but it doesn't quite sit right with him.

No.  _No_ , he can't do that, because he'd come here to find information. He's not done gathering his facts yet, and he can't go home until he is. Aita sighs, and considers the small mob of humans in front of him. He's going to have to talk to one of them. At  _least_ one of them, possibly more of them, or all of them. Grudgingly, he reaches out to the nearest one, putting one hand on his shoulder and the other hand on his apple, and carefully unfreezing him from the waist up.

The man stirs, clearly confused, and tries to jerk back. It doesn't work, of course—his legs are still stone—and then he narrows his eyes in suspicion.

…and he asks a question, in a language Aita has never heard before. Somehow, it hasn't even occurred to him that just maybe, these humans might have developed their own language over… however long it's been since they took over. He frowns, and then hefts the apple in one hand. It's easy to manipulate the mind of a human—that's one of the reasons so many of the isu don't think humans will ever be a threat. Besides being smaller and physically weaker, they're too easy to manipulate. It's easy for Aita to put knowledge of his language into the human's mind, so that at least they can communicate.

The human can clearly feel that something has changed, because he tries speaking again, and this time of course it works. "What did you do to me?" he demands. Then, as an afterthought, "To  _us_?"

"Let's start at the beginning," Aita says. "With introductions, maybe?" He raises his eyebrows. "My name is Aita."

The man sneers at him. "Yes," he says, condescending. "I  _had_ figured that much out."

Wait, what? They know who he is? Aita stares for a second, genuinely surprised, then decides this isn't the right time to ask. Later. He'll ask for details  _later_. "Who are you?" he asks instead. Names first. They can figure everything else out later.

The human clearly considers lying to him. Aita doesn't have to be able to see into his mind to know what he's thinking. His expression says it all. "Juhani Otso Berg," he says, voice stiff and formal. "What happens now? Are you going to kill us all?"

Aita shrugs. "I guess I'm here to find out if that's going to be necessary," he says. "So consider this your chance to convince me it's not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of feel like maybe I'm starting to get an idea of where this is going? Maybe? Unfortunately it's kind of dealing with the isu, which... I know no one is interested in. But um... yea. I'm kind of hoping to develop Aita a little bit more in the next few chapters, while everyone goes back in time and does their thing! Yea. We'll see.


	8. Chapter 8

"This is  _beautiful_."

Even in the less than perfect circumstances, Elina couldn't help feeling amazed at the city where they now found themselves. Something Italian? She wasn't even sure, but wherever it was, it was totally different from anything she'd ever seen before. The towers around her had the look of something not so much built as crafted, and Elina could only imagine that it was perfect for whatever Assassin they were here to recruit.

She heard a laugh—quickly cut off, almost guilty, and turned, suddenly self conscious. Elijah and Khemu had gone off ahead to try and scout ahead a little bit, which left Elina alone with the two women. She didn't know either of them that well, and to be honest Khemu's mom kind of scared her a little, so it felt a little weird that one of them was laughing at her.

"Sorry," she said, flushing bright red. "I—"

She stopped when Amunet shook her head and said… something in Egyptian. Elina didn't speak a word of it, and Amunet obviously didn't speak English either, so Elina turned instinctively to Layla for an explanation.

"She says she didn't mean to laugh," Layla says. "But you looked happy."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Elina says defensively, but she has a feeling that there is. There are people back home that are counting on them to  _save_ them, and one of those people is her father. Maybe it's wrong to be enjoying this.

She feels herself sinking a little, shoulders drooping. She ducks her head.

Amunet snorts, an impatient noise that only drives home to Elina how stupid she must look, spinning around like this. She says something, voice clipped and short, and then strides forward, past Elina. As she walks past, she touches her shoulder in a distinct  _come on_ gesture.

So Elina comes, why not? She's not going to argue with the terrifying Assassin mother of one of her best friends while they're stuck centuries in the past on a mission to save the people they care about from some crazy isu.

…

Her life is a lot weirder all of a sudden than it was just a few days ago.

The three of them get a few stares as they move, but not as many as Elina would have expected. She's not as great at history as someone that knows for a fact that time travel is real probably should be, so she doesn't know exactly when they are—she can definitely tell that it's a time between when Amunet's ancient Egyptian garb fell out of fashion, and when the jeans Elina wears would start to look normal.

Amunet seems to have a sixth sense for avoiding people, which… okay, so that makes sense. She is an Assassin after all, or… a proto Assassin anyway. Same thing—she definitely knows how to hide, and more than once she puts out a hand to stop Elina from walking out to far, or gestures for her to follow more closely.

"They're not going to be able to find us," Elina says, after they've been walking for what feels like forever. It's probably only been ten or fifteen minutes, but she keeps thinking about how screwed she'd be if got separated from the other two, lost in this city with no one to help her figure out what to do.

(Which leads to the other thought, the one she's been trying not to think too loudly, even in the privacy of her own head—what is she even  _doing_ here? Her, of all the people in the world it could have been)

"Who?" Layla asks.

"Khemu," Elina says. "Elijah."

"They have Senu with them," Layla points out. "They'll find us."

Which, okay, fair point, and that does make her feel a little bit better. Even if she gets lost here, Senu will find her. Probably. But maybe it's better to keep close anyway. So Elina does that, trailing close behind Amunet, and doesn't realize that maybe she's  _too_ close until Amunet abruptly moves  _upward_ , and Elina almost runs smack into a wall.

"I can't—" She remembers the language barrier, and turns to appeal to Layla instead. "I don't know how to climb like that. Dad says that kind of stuff is for Assassins."

Amunet doesn't listen. Which should be obvious, right, because even if she did listen she wouldn't have any idea what Elina was saying. But Elina still can't help but think that it's a  _little_ rude for Amunet to just start talking over her before she's even done. Layla looks briefly confused as she tries to take in what both of them are saying, then sighs and looks at Elina. "She says you're going to learn."

If Elina's being honest with herself, that sends a little thrill of excitement up through her. She hasn't put much thought into whether she thinks the Assassins or the Templars are right (and honestly, why can't they all just be Hidden Ones? Fighting on the same side together to protect people from scary stuff like Juno). But she does know that the Assassins look way cooler, and all the climbing and parkour stuff would be  _awesome_ to learn.

Her dad hates the idea. They've argued about it before.

"Okay," she says, a little dumbstruck and a little shy. "I'll learn."

And so Amunet teaches her how to climb, with occasional help from Layla, who translates Amunet's quick, one or two word instructions whenever gesturing and her own example isn't enough to show Elina what to do.

"Don't look down," Layla says when they're halfway up.

It's the first time she's said anything that isn't a straight translation for Amunet in a while, so of course Elina's first instinct is to react to it, and (stupidly) her reaction is to immediately look down. "Oh," she says, getting it at once. "We are… very high up."

"I did tell you not to look," Layla points out. "Come on, focus. We're almost there."

They're only three floors up, Elina tries to remind herself as she continues to follow Amunet. The building isn't actually all that tall compared to the other ones around them, just… it's still tall enough that she would definitely get squished into a gross, super dead puddle if she happened to fall.

She pauses, hanging onto her handhold so hard that it scratches at her palms.

Above her, Amunet leans down to look at her, balancing casually with only one hand on the stonework. She says… something, and gestures to the angle of her own body. A little clumsily, Elina tries to mimic her. Amunet has to actually lean down and adjust the way she's holding on, but when she's done Elina has to admit she's in a much more comfortable position. "Thanks," she says, and tries to keep that form as she follows Amunet up the last few feet to the roof of the building.

"Okay," she says, looking out at the (still unnamed) city, spread out below them. "That's incredible."

-/-

"Do you know where we're going?" Khemu asks Elijah after a half hour or so of walking. "This place is  _huge_."

"Another one of my dad's ancestors lives here," Elijah says. He pauses, then adds, "I mean, Ezio's my ancestor too, but he actually  _knows_ my dad. I figured it would be easier to start with the people that already know about time travel and might want to help, because…" He hesitates, then admits, "Because I have no idea how I'm going to convince people that are new to this to follow us."

 _Us_. That phrasing makes him a little uncomfortable, because Khemu knows it's not a question of following all of them. Whether or not he likes it, Khemu has an uncomfortable feeling that Elijah's falling into the position of their leader. And he knows Elijah. He knows where he's strong and where he's weak, and Khemu… isn't totally sure Elijah's ready to lead like this.

"We don't really have a plan," Khemu says, instead of voicing his doubts about Elijah's leadership out loud. "Do we?"

Elijah snorts. "We have a list of people and a time traveling apple, and that's about it. We are so far away from having a plan that it's not even funny, okay?"

"There's nothing funny about this," Khemu says, and then sighs. "Okay," he says. "So… do you at least know where we are? Or where we're going?"

"Florence, Italy," Elijah says. "And we're going…" He gestures vaguely. "That way. About four blocks, and then I think I can find the house from there."

"And you'll be able to talk to him and convince him to help and everything?"

"Talk to him, probably," Elijah says. "My weird knowing thing is pretty reliable about helping me figure out languages. And I  _should_ be able to convince him. Like I said, he knows my dad, and I don't know why he  _wouldn't_ do whatever he can to help him."

It's pretty obvious that in the world according to Elijah, there's no reason to think that anyone and everyone that  _can_ help save his dad will do so without hesitation. Which, fair enough, Khemu has a pretty similarly biased opinion about saving his own dad. Logically, he knows it's not true, but deep inside, he can't face the idea that anything would stand in the way of getting his dad back.

So all he says is, "Okay. I trust you."

The get odd looks as they walk, but apart from some younger kids that stop and point, no one actually does anything about them. Khemu would have expected that wearing clothes five hundred years ahead of the fashion curve would have set off alarms if nothing else did, but to his surprise…

No one says anything.

"Elijah," he mutters. "Is it weird that no one's trying to stop us?"

"Uh…" Elijah's eyes dart from one side to the other. "Yea, probably? I guess maybe everyone's thinking someone else is going to deal with it, like… you know how they do those studies of like how if there's an accident in a big group of people, no one will actually call 911 because they assume someone else is going to do it?"

"No," Khemu says.

"Well they do," Elijah says. "No one wants to be That Guy that makes a big deal out of something, and I guess that's even true five hundred years ago."

"Really?"

Elijah shrugs. "That, or someone's calling the police or guards or whatever, and we should probably hurry up and find Ezio before that happens."

They look at each other, then pick up speed. That only makes people stare more, of course, and by the time they come around a corner and come face to face with an armed guard heading toward them, Khemu isn't even surprised.

"Uh," Khemu says. "Elijah…"

"I see him," Elijah says.

The guard says something in—Italian, probably? Elijah had said they're in Florence, which means Italian. Khemu doesn't speak Italian, so he looks instinctively toward his friend for help.

But before Elijah even has a chance to open his mouth, Khemu goes stiff. He'd seen something heading toward them, over the rooftops. A flash of white, and his heart jumps. An Assassin? It has to be an Assassin, right? "Elijah," he whispers. "Look…"

The probably-an-Assassin stands for a second on the rooftop, too far away for Khemu to see him clearly. Then, he jumps.

Mentally, Elijah upgrades the probably-an-Assassin to a definitely-an-Assassin.

He doesn't make an effort to hide as the Assassin emerges from the haycart he's landed in, although he does fidget a little. Assassins are… well, they're assassins. They assassinate people, and there's something about those robes that are really intimidating. Elijah tries to remind himself that Assassins aren't supposed to harm innocents, but it doesn't work so well when he keeps thinking about how long and sharp the hidden blades are.

Then the Assassin pushes back his hood, and Elijah relaxes with an audible sigh of relief. He doesn't know Ezio's face that well, but he's seen some images from animus footage, and it's enough to recognize him up close, with the hood down. "Hey," he says. "We were looking for you."

"You're a little far from home, aren't you?" Ezio asks, eyeing both of them in a way that makes Elijah feel younger than he is.

"Do you know what happened to my dad?" Elijah asks. Time travel makes it a little hard to keep track of who knows what, so it's probably safest to start with the basics.

"Yes," Ezio says. "With the isu he and Berg rescued from the Templars. I'm sorry, Elijah."

"Yea," Elijah says. "Me too. I…" He glances sideways at Khemu, just because he needs the familiar face. "I came here because we're recruiting people to help dad—"

"And my dad," Khemu interjects. "And Berg too, I guess. For Elina." He pauses. "And because it's the right thing to do."

"You know I will," Ezio says. Then he takes a step back and looks them both over again. "But first, if you have the time, you should come back with me. Come have something to eat and a night's sleep."

It's tempting. Elijah can't remember the last time he slept, really slept—he's dozed off a couple times, but those  _naps_  had been more like nightmares, with the constant flashes of Aita's life creeping into his. He hadn't even slept the night before, thanks to the nightmares.

" _Do_  we have time?" Khemu asks, looking at Elijah.

Probably. Maybe. Honestly, the idea of sleeping suddenly sounds irresistible, now that it's been brought up. "Yea," he says. "I think we'll… yea. We'll make time. But we have to find everyone else first." He looks back up at Ezio. "We brought a few other friends too, everyone else that avoided… you know. Aita."

"I have a safehouse not far from here," Ezio says. "I'll take you there, and then I'll go find anyone else wearing clothes like yours, alright?"

Honestly, it feels pretty good to have someone else making the decisions for a little while. He nods, and lets Ezio take over for a little while.

-/-

Ezio's safehouse turns out to be a little hole in the wall, almost literally, tucked into an alleyway, the entrance of which is hidden behind an enthusiastic basket merchant. The man winks as Ezio leads them inside. He covers up their entrance by squawking out a particularly enthusiastic advertisement for his wares. It makes every single person that walks past avert their eyes in self defense, clearly afraid he's going to single them out to try and make his pitch, and as a result all three of them are able to slip inside, unseen.

Ezio promises to come back with food and the rest of the group, and ducks back out. Khemu and Elijah share a look, then burrow into the small amount of space that Ezio calls his safehouse.

It's barely five foot tall, so both of them just sit down to avoid having to crouch. Khemu hits his head anyway, and makes a face as he squats down and rubs at the sore spot. There are a few sort-of beds—piles of blankets bunched up into something more like nests—scattered around the floor, and a few odds and ends lie in boxes along the far wall. A lantern casts cozy, flickering light along the uneven walls. It's warm, and Khemu thinks it's the first time he's felt really safe since he found out his dad had been turned to stone.

Only… no.

Frowning, he realizes it's the first time he's felt really safe since he saw his mom again. That's when this squirming, unsettled feeling started inside him, and now, for the first time, he can feel himself starting to settle a little bit.

"Hey Elijah," he says, and then again, when he doesn't get an answer, "Elijah?"

This time he turns, and can't help smiling a little when he sees Elijah lying flat on his stomach on a heaped up pile of blankets, face turned just enough to one side that he can breathe. He's obviously fast asleep, and Khemu isn't going to wake him up after the kind of day he's had. Instead, he settles in with his back against the wall to wait.

When Ezio comes back, Elijah is snoring slightly, and Khemu is finally feeling relaxed enough to give his mom a small, nervous smile.

She looks surprised for a second, but then gives him a sort of blink and you'll miss it smile in return before Elina comes running over to him, windswept and excited about her wall climbing adventure.

-/-

Berg wants to kill this man, possibly more than he has ever wanted to kill anyone before in his life.

No. That's an exaggeration. That  _has_ to be an exaggeration, because he's wanted to kill quite a few people during his time as a mercenary, and then eventually as a Templar. But there's something truly rage inducing about being frozen from the waist down and utterly trapped. Even with Juno, as horrifying as she had been, Berg hadn't felt quite this  _stuck_. She had controlled minds, but Berg has always been honest enough with himself to know that his strength lies more in his body than in his mind. Now that's been taken away, and he's feeling claustrophobic and terrified and ready to lash out at the utter  _bastard_ that's done this to him.

"I just want to have a conversation," the man says. "I'm just looking for answers."

"I'm not going to tell you  _anything_ ," Berg snarls, and the man's eyes narrow.

"Pity," he says. "Because it could mean the difference between the human race continuing to exist as you know it… or not."

And he's serious, Berg realizes. He's  _absolutely_ serious. Something very cold seems to run down his spine, and he grits his teeth. "What do you want to know?" he spits out.

And the man says—

"Everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can always tell when my life gets a little too busy because when I don't get enough sleep, I just write my characters falling asleep. I mean, it's the same thing, right? 


	9. Chapter 9

"So tell me about this man," Ezio says. He's sitting with the two women, Layla and Amunet, in a sort of circle in the middle of the floor while the children sleep. Khemu had dozed off not long after they all got back, while Elina managed to hold out until she'd had something to eat.

Layla has her phone on the floor between them, using a program she has saved there to translate what they're saying as the conversation goes on. Amunet, whose language is too old for the phone program, is merely watching Ezio and listening to the occasional comment Layla makes in Egyptian. "I don't know much about him," she admits now. "Aita, I guess that's his name. That's what everyone else keeps saying. But I don't know. Elijah has most of the information." She leans back and shakes her head. "I think, anyway."

Ezio is fairly familiar with Elijah, through Desmond. He knows how complicated Elijah's dubious gift is, and can only imagine how hard all this must be for him. "You're not sure?" he asks. "But you're following him anyway?"

"You know—" Layla leans forward again. "It's funny. He's just a kid, he seems like he's about to panic half the time, and he  _looks_ like… well I mean, that guy, Aita? He looks more like Elijah than his own father does. There's no good reason to be following him on a tour of history's greatest hits, but… we're here."

They all turn to look at Elijah, who at the moment couldn't have possibly looked any less impressive. Ezio smiles, but he's the only one.

Amunet says something, and Ezio looks to Layla right away.

"She says they're too young for this," Layla translates. "And I guess she's right." She's not looking at either Ezio or Amunet. "But I think maybe they jumped at the chance to do this. They're not—you know, they're not  _happy_ about it. Who would be? But something horrible happened and they just jumped into action."

"But so did you," Ezio points out. "I mean, you're here too, aren't you?"

Layla shakes her head, looking more confused than anything. "I didn't exactly come intentionally," she says. "I just wanted answers about time travel, and then… everything kind of snowballed."

When she says  _I just wanted answers about time travel_ , she doesn't look at Ezio. More importantly, she doesn't look at Amunet. And Ezio thinks he understands that look—or lack of a lock, maybe.

"Was it just curiosity?" he asks. "Or was there maybe something more personal?"

"No," Layla says. "No, it wasn't… it wouldn't be anything personal. Who wouldn't be curious, right? And then we saw what Aita could do, and there wasn't really a  _choice_ , we couldn't just stay there and let that happen to us, too…"

"There's nothing wrong," Ezio says. "With falling in love." He looks pointedly at Amunet, and then back at Layla.

It's a step too far, Ezio realizes it as soon as he says it. The comment was meant to be encouraging, but it clearly upsets Layla. She mumbles something about being tired, and turns in for the night.

Amunet gives him a pointed look, raising one eyebrow. They don't share a language, so she doesn't say anything, but her expression says more than enough. It's an expression that very definitely says  _you messed that up_.

Which is fair enough, clearly he's overstepped his bounds here. Maybe he shouldn't have said something like that to a woman he barely knows. Either way, he's willing to step back and pretend he never said anything.

Only then he happens to glance over at Khemu. Ezio had assumed he was still asleep, but his eyes are very slightly open, and he looks like he's trying much too hard to stay still. When he realizes Ezio is looking at him, Khemu squeezes his eyes shut, and pretends as hard as he can that he's still asleep.

So there's that. Maybe Ezio's screwed things up more than he thought, somehow.

-/-

Khemu's not as tired as Elijah, although it's been a long day for him, too. While Elijah—and Elina, actually—sleep, Khemu wakes up as soon as Layla takes out her phone to start translating. He ignores most of the conversation, trying to get back to sleep. At least until the end, when Ezio…  _suggests_  that Layla is… that she's  _in love with_ …

That's his mom.

Today  _sucks_.

He keeps trying and trying to sleep, but it's a wasted effort. After what feels like hours, when all the others are asleep, Khemu hauls himself to his feet and shuffles across the tiny sleep to where his mom is… awake. Oh. Her eyes slide open as he gets close, and Khemu stops dead in his tracks. "I… sorry," he says, stumbling over his words as he tries to switch quickly to Egyptian. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"But I am awake now," she says, sitting up and settling into an easy cross legged position. "And you must need something if you're here, so what is it?"

"I don't… Nothing. I don't need anything."

She gestures for him to sit down, and Khemu does, reluctantly.

"Quiet," she says. "You'll wake the others."

So that makes Khemu feel pretty bad. Like he's just in the way, some kind of annoyance to people that are trying to do  _important things_. Not like him. Khemu's not—he has important  _friends_. His  _dad's_ important. Khemu isn't, and the last few days have really driven that home.

If  _home_ wasn't so dangerous now, Khemu would have asked Elijah to take him back. He's not doing any good here, and this isn't the kind of situation where they can afford to just have dead weight dragging them down.

His mom says something. Khemu's so stuck in his own head that he doesn't even hear her, and he has to ask her to say it again.

"Something's bothering you," she says, and it's obviously an invitation. Tell me. Open up, get it out there.

Only, Khemu doesn't want to. He's not comfortable telling her anything about what's going on inside his head, even if he did have the words to make her understand him. It's just… maybe when he was little, he could have said something. Not now, not with how impossibly far apart they've gotten.

So instead of explaining how useless he is, and how he doesn't deserve to be here, Khemu redirects. "You're different," he says. "Really different."

She looks at him, and then admits, "Yes. Yes, Khemu—" She says his name like his dad does. No one else—well, no one else except for Layla, who learned all her Egyptian from his dad—ever says his name exactly right. The sound of it, weirdly, makes him feel just that tiny bit more comfortable. It takes him back to when he was a kid, and it makes him feel sort of nostalgic and right at home at the same time.

"Khemu," she says again. "I had to change. Just like you did."

"But I was in the future," Khemu says. "I couldn't… be the same, because it wouldn't have fit in where I was. But you stayed in the same place, you just  _changed_."

He's surprised by the accusation in his own tone, because he hadn't meant to get genuinely upset about this right now. He'd just been planning to keep her from seeing how bad he feels about being here, but… well, this has sort of been bothering him too.

"I didn't stay in the same place," his mom tells him. She's looking at him like she's expecting him to just understand. There's very little sympathy in the expression. "Your father and I had to change—we travelled all across Egypt, fighting the people that we thought had killed you."

Khemu flinches back, but not too far. The wall behind him means he can't retreat, there's nowhere to  _go,_ and all he can do is stay where he is and have this horrible argument. "Dad didn't change!" he says. "You act like it's all my fault but I didn't ask you to be all—cold, and I don't  _know_  but you're different!"

She gives him a pointed look, and doesn't answer—it takes Khemu a second or two to realize he's reverted back to English. He hadn't planned to do that. "You're like a different person," he says, because he doesn't have all the right Egyptian words. "The way I remember you… you would never have acted like this. You don't even care that we're together again…" He looks at her, daring her to disagree. "You don't care…"

"I can't care," she says quietly. "Because that isn't me anymore. That was Aya."

Khemu narrows his eyes and stares at her, trying to puzzle that out. He's half convinced he's misunderstood, but… "That's you, though," he says. "That's…"

"I told you," she says. "I changed. I call myself Amunet, now."

And things start to make a little bit more sense. "Oh," Khemu says.  _"Oh_." Because what else do you say when you find out that your mom's been hurt so badly she can't even be the same person anymore? She's forced herself away from everything Khemu remembers, she's made herself someone else.

Well now he feels bad.

"Dad never told me," he says. "Did he know?"

"He knew," she says.

"Oh."

"He never said…?"

"He never talks about you," Khemu says. "Ever."

"Oh."

And he can see that she's hurt by that, in a way. Like… she's struggling not to be hurt, but it's there, just behind her eyes. And while they're still sitting there in their awkward silence, both of them a little bit hurt and maybe farther away than ever, Senu comes over, hopping because the space is much too small for her to fly. Khemu had insisted on keeping her inside with them, even though he knows she doesn't like it, because… well, honestly he's homesick, and he's scared of losing her even though that's ridiculous. She's still going to be there in the morning if he takes his eyes off her.

Only his dad isn't there anymore. Only his mom isn't his mom anymore. Only Khemu is useless and scared and out of place here.

He reaches out (and his arm shakes) and puts his hand on her head—

And then he just starts to cry. Quietly, shoulders shaking, bent over like that's going to actually going to hide anything, Khemu starts to cry. His eyes burn from tiredness and from trying to hold the tears back, and his face burns out of humiliation. No one else is doing this, they're not falling to gross, tiny pieces like he is, but then again no one else is as hopelessly, stupidly useless…

And then he feels an arm on his shoulder. "No," Khemu says, trying and failing to squirm away from her. Senu has found her way up onto his leg by this point, and has perched herself up there as if she's intentionally trying to stop him from moving. Maybe she is. She's always had her own sort of ideas of how they should all get along, and she's never been shy about sharing them in whatever ways she can. "Don't—"

She pulls back, so quick she might have been burned, and lets Khemu cry alone. "You don't want to be my mom then don't—don't  _act_ like you are. I don't want to talk to you if you're just going to pretend." He has to stuff his fist into his mouth to stop a particularly loud sob from slipping out. He sounds like a pipe, gurgling and grunting as water runs through it, and he feels disgusting, just hearing himself.

He shouldn't be here.

-/-

Ezio is the first one awake in the morning, but Elijah gets up not much later, and then Layla almost right after him—and then of course once the three of them are up and banging around, it doesn't take long before everyone else wakes up too. Elijah looks like he's had a much needed full night's sleep, and apart from a red mark on the side of his face where he's slept with his cheek pressed against the stone, looks better than he had the day before. Layla looks rested as well, and Elina when she wakes is clearly excited about seeing whatever the day has to offer.

Amunet and Khemu don't look like they've gotten much sleep at all, and they won't look at each other for longer than a second or two. Ezio almost comments, more than once, but something tells him to hold his tongue. This is between the two of them.

"Are you moving on today?" he asks Elijah. "Going… wherever you're going?"

"Yea," Elijah says. "If you're willing to help when we have everyone recruited, and go back home—"

"Of course I will," Ezio says. "You could have showed up, said you needed something, and whisked me away without any explanation." He gave Elijah a half smile. "I've known you through your dad since you were a kid," he reminded him. "And you're family, no matter how distant."

For some reason, that seems to upset Khemu, although he doesn't say anything.

"Thanks, Ezio," Elijah says. He musters up a kind of half grin. "Now let's just hope I can convince people that haven't known me since I was a kid, right?"

"You'll do fine," Ezio says. "And if anyone gives you any trouble, you come back here and let me know. I'll take care of them."

He means it as a joke, but Elijah takes him seriously. "I'll take care of myself," he says, and Ezio grins at him. "Good for you," he says. "Good for you, Elijah." He gives his descendant a hug, and then lets the boy back off, feigning embarrassment. He watches as the five of them—and the eagle—gather in close. He backs up as far as he can in the cramped space, just in case he gets pulled in too, and waits until the sudden flare of light from the apple has taken them away.

The small room seems too big suddenly, when they're gone.

-/-

"You'll have to tell me something," Berg says, and Aita sighs.

"This isn't a negotiation," he says.

"It's only fair," Berg insists, and Aita wonders if all humans are this incredibly stubborn. Dealing with this man, he almost wants to go to the wall and just pound his forehead into it.

"Tell me," he says. "If I were to unfreeze  _anyone else_ here and ask them the same questions I'm asking you, would they be any more helpful than you are being?"

"Less helpful, most likely" Berg says.

"I find that extremely hard to believe," Aita says.

Berg gives a little snort of laughter, and Aita wonders how he can laugh when he knows full well that the fate of his species depends on how well he answers these questions. So far he hasn't answered a single one.

"You see him?" he asks, pointing to one of the other humans.

"Okay," Aita says. "Sure, I see him. Why?"

"His son has  _your_ face," Berg says, pointing at Aita accusatorily. "And because of that, he has this extraordinarily irritating knack for knowing things he has no possible way of learning. He just knows them. He doesn't deal well with people—it's a curse, you see? Your existence has genuinely cursed his son. I think he'd be considerably  _less_  willing to help you than I have been."

"Wait," Aita says, genuinely thrown for a loop. "His son has—my face?" Even among the isu, he knows he's relatively… unique looking. His mismatched eyes by themselves are so rare that he's never seen anyone else that shares the particular trait. In humans, he'd have assumed it was just as rare. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"He's a Sage," Berg says, as if that should explain everything. It doesn't. It explains nothing.

"Tell me," Aita says. "What that means." For the moment at least, he's distracted from the questions he'd come here to ask—he can circle back around to it later, but for now he's more concerned with…  _this_. Whatever Sages, are, they seem personal.

And to his genuine surprise, instead of arguing, Berg starts to explain.

Aita listens, and feels chills start up his spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm trying to hard with Khemu and Amunet but I just don't like her. Argh.


	10. Chapter 10

Elijah is feeling better than usual when he takes everyone else from Ezio's hideout to their next destination. He's slept well, in a place that feels safe, surrounded by people that are definitely on his side. He hadn't even dreamed during the night, and he's ready to face whatever this new time period has to throw it them.

Or at least… that's the plan.

This time, for whatever reason, something goes wrong. Not with the apple, but with Elijah. In his head, and at the worst possible time. Or maybe that's a bad way to put it because they're  _outside_ of time when it happens, almost but not quite to their next destination. Maybe it's the dreams he's been having, finally reaching into the waking world, corrupting him the way the Sage in Egypt had warned him it would.

Maybe, this is inevitable.

It comes at him like a flood, the  _knowing_ (of knowing someone else, knowing him inside and out), washing over him and washing him away. He screams at the pain of it, as a thousand red hot daggers seem to pierce through his mind. He lets go of everything, loses focus, loses, loses, loses…

"Elijah!"

He's a million floating points of light in a void of nothingness—he can't let go of the apple but it's power is streaming through him, overwriting him, and the next thing he's aware of is falling, for what seems like a very long time, into darkness.

And then there is light, and he hits the ground with a thud that shakes him all the way to his bones. For a long, confused minute he just sits where he is, concentrating on breathing, trying to pull himself back together.

He's in a forest somewhere. There are trees all around him, and overhead, somewhere, a bird of pretty circling. It's a bright day, beautiful, with a sky so blue he could drown in it, and the shock of being  _here_ after the nothingness of before is so great that it's all he can do for the moment to simply  _exist_.

An indeterminate amount of time later, he hears footsteps, and a man (a boy, really, although his face is so serious that the label doesn't seem to fit) appears in his field of vision. "Are you alright?" he asks.

A good question, and one he's not sure how to answer. He's not going into detail now though, not with a stranger. "Yes," he says, and when the man offers him a hand, he takes it.

"Are you hurt?"

"No," he says, which seems true enough, despite the odds. There's no broken bones, just a few bruises and sore spots. "Just a little… lost."

The man seems to consider him for a long moment before nodding. "I live on a homestead," he says. "About a mile in that direction." He doesn't point, but jerks his head slightly to one side. "There is an inn. You're welcome to stay for the night, if you need a place to rest."

It's more kindness than he would have expected from someone he's never seen before, but he does need a place to rest, and get his bearings, so he nods. "Thank you."

"I was heading back myself," the man says. "I'll take you there." He starts walking, without pausing to make sure he's being followed. "My name is Connor, by the way."

"Connor," he echoes. "Nice to meet you."

"And your name?"

"Aita."

-/-

When Elijah has his… his fit, or whatever it is, the rest of them are blown back and away from him, falling back into normal time, but  _separated_. It's all Layla can do to grab Elina's wrist (and even then, it's only because Elina happens to be closest) and hang on tight as they fall. She doesn't see what happens to Elijah, or to Amunet or Khemu, for that matter, and then a second later they're slamming into the ground in the middle of what looks like a revolutionary war reenactment (only not a reenactment, because nope, nope, that would make way too much sense, this is time travel so it's the  _actual_ revolutionary war, probably).

Elina squeaks like an injured bird as they hit cobblestone, bouncing and rolling several feet away, but Layla is heavier and skids along the street, stopping  _just_ short of a gutter.

She lies there for a moment, face down, and questions her life choices.

The people around them are speaking English—mostly—which sounds definitely old fashioned but still understandable. Which is kind of a shame, because Layla isn't in the mood to hear the grumpy old man a few feet away declare her a demon, or the little girl down the street shriek that she's just jumped off a roof and can she fly like a bird, Mamma, can she?

Elina gets up while Layla is still contemplating rolling into the gutter and just staying there indefinitely, although Layla isn't aware of it until she feels hands on her shoulder, shaking her carefully.

"Are you okay?" Elina asks. "Are you… anything broken?"

And Layla reminds herself that she's supposed to be the adult here, and forces herself to stand up. "I'm fine," she assures Elina, and checks the girl out for injuries, just in case. Her face is a little beat up, she's bleeding slightly, but it doesn't look like anything too serious. "We should get off the street," she mutters, looking around at the slowly growing crowd that seems to have decided they're the day's entertainment.

"Yea," Elina says, sounding relieved. "Please."

So Layla puts her arm over Elina and guides her off the street, into the closest alleyway, and…

And  _right_ into the man that's standing there, waiting for them. Layla backs up a step, eyeing him warily. She recognizes from the symbols on his clothes that he's a Templar, but that doesn't bother her much. She works for Templars, and Elina's father is a Templar—not the worst thing in the world.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here," the man says. "And guess that you're time travelers?"

Layla narrows her eyes at him, but her suspicion only makes him laugh.

"My name's Shay," he says. "Shay Cormac. I'm familiar with the idea."

"Oh," Elina says, and her voice instantly takes on the tone of bored teenagers everywhere. "Dad talks about you  _all the time_. And you helped with Juno."

"Yes," Shay says, and Layla relaxes. If he'd helped stop Juno, he'll understand why they need to stop Aita too.

"Can you help us get off the street then?" she asks. "We sort of… crash landed."

He raises his eyebrows, but a certain twitchiness around his mouth betrayed his amusement. "That must have been… quite a sight," he says.

"We lost everyone else too," Elina said, and Shay looked down at her, smile fading.

"There were more people with you?" he asks.

"Elijah, Khemu, and Amunet," she says. "We were all coming through time together, and then…" Her face creases with worry. "Elijah had a sort of fit, and we all got separated."

"Come back with me," Shay says. "And I'll start putting feelers out to see if we can find them."

Layla lets out a breath. Well, that could have gone a lot worse, to be honest.

-/-

Khemu slams into something wooden (a railing, maybe?). It hits him right in the stomach and he gives a horrible, pained grunt before sliding backwards and falling another several feet before hitting—

Water.

Khemu gasps (which  _hurts_ ) and fights to focus on where he is and what he's doing before he drowns. His head is a mess of worry  _where is he and why is he drowning and where are his friends and what happened to Elijah_ but he flails and kicks off his gym shoes and just barely manages to keep his head up above water.

"Man overboard!" Somebody shouts, and there's a distant sound of running feet and commotion from the—well, from the ship he'd hit on the way down. Khemu, bobbing up and down in the water, sort of flails a bit to look around and try and figure out where he is.

And the answer, he's alarmed to see, is the middle of the ocean. There's no sight of land around anywhere, and the only ship Khemu can see is the one he'd hit. Luckily, they seem willing to fish him out.

Once he's been hauled up, Khemu's willing to admit that he sort of spaces out a little. When he peels off his sopping wet T-shirt (it sticks out, and half the men on the ship are bare chested anyway) he sees a truly brutal looking bruise starting to form across most of his stomach.

"Ow," he mumbles at one point, and someone laughs—a man with hands that feel like they're approximately the size of Khemu's head wraps clean-ish bandages around him, and then at some point he's being helped across the ship's deck to a set of stairs leading down to the… hull? Is that the right ship term? Khemu's vaguely wondering about that when he happens to glance up, and sees the flag flying proud and high from the mast. He doesn't need to know much about ships to recognize a pirate's flag when he sees it.

Which kind of blows his mind a little bit.

He's not exactly locked up, but it's pretty obvious that he's being  _strongly encouraged_ to stay below deck until someone figures out what to do with him. Khemu sits on a worn out stool, trying not to wobble too much even though none of the three legs are the same height. He ends up focusing on that so much that he almost misses the new man (pirate, oh God he's a  _pirate_ ) heading down toward him. He's surprisingly quiet, considering who he is and where they are, and his smile sort of reminds Khemu of Ezio's—genuinely cheerful but with an undercurrent of danger. Only Khemu knows Ezio isn't going to hurt them, and he doesn't even know who this guy is.

"Uh," Khemu says. "Hey."

So that's… okay, that's one way to start a conversation with a pirate. Not… the best way, probably… probably one of the worst ways, really.

"You fell out of the sky," the pirate says, which kind of makes Khemu feel better because it's almost as awkward as what he'd said.

"Yea," he says and then, on a whim, because he's stranded in the middle of nowhere in a time that—that he doesn't even  _know_ , like what century is this? Because of  _that_ , he says, "I was travelling through time, and then something bad happened, and we all got separated."

The man looks genuinely, almost  _insultingly_ amused by that. He laughs, showing slightly yellow teeth, and Khemu crosses his arms. "It's true," he insists. "I know it sounds crazy, but how else do you explain how I got here? There's nothing around for miles."

"Well—" He tilts his head sideways, and Khemu has the idea that for the first time, he's being taken seriously. "You raise a good point there."

"Seriously," Khemu says. "Ask me anything. I have no idea where or when I am. Like… I pretty much know I'm on a boat in the middle of the ocean, and that's it."

"Ship."

"What?"

"It's called a  _ship_ ," the man says. "And if you're going to stay here, you might as well start by learning all the right words."

"I'm staying?" Khemu asks.

"There's nowhere else to go, unless you feel like taking a long swim. And we can always use an extra pair of hands. Besides." Again there's that flash of serious consideration in his eyes. "Maybe I'm a bit curious. Maybe I want to be the only pirate captain in the Caribbean with a time traveler on his ship."

He holds out a hand, and Khemu eyes it for a second before letting himself be pulled up and to his feet.

"I'm Edward Kenway," the man says. "And this ship is my  _Jackdaw_."

Edward Kenway. Khemu knows that name—this is one of the people Elijah and the Sage from Egypt had said they needed to gather together to stop Aita. So… maybe there is a reason he's here, because what are the odds that he would just… show up right in front of exactly the person he needs to see?

"Khemu," he says.

"Khemu from the future," Edward says cheerfully. "I'll make sure someone shows you the ropes." His eyes flick down to Khemu's bandaged torso. "And then get some rest," he adds. "It's no good for any of us if you stay hurt."

"Okay," Khemu says. "I…" He just doesn't know what else to say. "Okay," he says again, and leaves it at that.

-/-

Amunet is still relatively new to time travel. Everyone else seems to have some understanding of how it works, but she still feels like she's running to catch up. And now, worryingly, she's alone in a place she does not know.

Well, almost alone. She has Senu, and some part of Aya ( _Amunet_ —all these years later and she still can't completely shed her past) is grateful to have the eagle with her. She understands Senu better than any of the  _people_ around her.

There's no Khemu or Layla or Elijah—there's no one around that she can talk to.

It's going to be a real struggle to figure out where she's ended up, and how to get back. "Alright, Senu," Amunet says. They're on the edges of the city where she'd fallen to Earth, skirting around the people that looked at her like she was a threat. "What do we do now?"

She's not expecting an answer, but Senu gives her one. The bird chirps in a way that almost  _forces_ Amunet's mind into the past. To their home in Siwa, when Khemu was a baby and Bayek was just starting to bring this odd little bird home with him.

She follows as Senu flaps her wings and takes off, gliding leisurely away, sort of perpendicular to the city itself. Amunet has no idea where they're going, but Senu clearly does. Her path doesn't waver at all, not until she comes to… well, not the kind of person Amunet would have expected. He's a stony faced rock wall of a man, whose face looks like it might never have seen a smile. But he seems to at least recognize Senu, and Amunet sees a flash of surprise on his face before he notices her as well, and he schools his expression into something haughty and somehow difficult to read.

He says something, in what might possibly be English. Amunet hasn't heard enough of it yet to be able to recognize the sound of it, but she half thinks she recognizes the cadence. And it doesn't matter anyway. English or not, she doesn't speak it. "I can't understand you," she tells him flatly, knowing that he won't under stand her Egyptian either. It doesn't matter, because he seems to get the general idea that they're not going to be able to understand each other.

Senu looks back and forth between the two of them, and chirps in what almost seems like a bossy tone. "What's so special about  _him_?" Amunet asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

In response, Senu stares her down. Amunet blinks first.

-/-

Shay has a sort of hideout, sort of house, sort of headquarters where he ends up taking Elina and Layla. They're there, getting to grips with the century they've suddenly fallen (headfirst) into, when Shay comes back inside from a brief trip out. To see what people are saying about their abrupt arrival, he'd said.

He doesn't come back alone.

"This is Haytham Kenway," Shay says, gesturing to the man that Elina doesn't recognize. "He's the Grandmaster here."

"Amunet," Layla says, sounding startled and relieved. "You—" And then she's off, launching into Egyptian. Elina huffs a sigh as she watches the two adult women fall into deep conversation. She's not really sure she wants to talk to the two Templars,  _especially_ considering that they're like her dad's heroes. Lame. But they might have information that she needs to know, so against her first instinct, she turns to Shay. Both of them are… sort of intimidating, if she's being honest, but Shay seems more open. He doesn't keep frowning at her like Haytham does.

"There were two more of us," she tells Shay. "Elijah and Khemu—they're my best friends, and they're still missing."

Shay nods at her. "I understand," he says softly. "And we'll find them."

The way he says it, he kind of reminds her of her dad. Firm, but with just a hint of softness. Elina feels her eyes welling up with tears, and Shay surprises her by reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. "We'll  _find_ them," he says again, but with everyone spread out across who  _knows_ how much time, Elina isn't sure she believes him.

-/-

Berg knows he's playing with fire, but he's always thrived on that. He doesn't know what that means about him, that he's always sought out danger, but it's served him well. So far. Of course, up until now, he's always been able to fight back. Now, frozen from the waist down, he can't.

It doesn't stop him from charging as fast as he can into danger, of course. Only this time, it's with his mouth.

"Sages," he says, raising his eyebrows skeptically (like everybody knows that, like Aita should too). "You really have no idea what they are."

Aita looks at him like he just can't understand why he would be taunting him at this point. Berg can't explain that to himself. "No," Aita says. "I don't."

"Men and women—well, mostly men, but there have been women too, occasionally—born with your face. They're always… odd."

"Odd?"

"They know things they shouldn't. They stay on the edges of society and never fit in."

"But  _why_?" Aita asks, sounding genuinely confounded.

"I guess you'd have to ask Juno," he says. "It's all her fault,"

And then he watches as Aita turns an interesting shade of pink.

"Juno," he says. "Juno. Why?"

Berg considers his options, and then decides on his answer solely because he wants to see Aita's reaction. "According to her," he says. "She loved you too much to let you die."

Aita turns a bright shade of pink, and looks—pleased? Definitely pleased. "She said that," he says. "About me?"

Berg considers him, and then says, "So you haven't married her yet."

"I've barely  _met_ her," Aita says, in a rush, and Berg barely stops himself from smiling. He would rather have something other than  _words_ to fight with, but it seems like he's off balance and distracted. "I… married?"

Berg gives him a level look. "I'm not sure it's the best idea," he says. "She isn't… she  _wasn't_ exactly the definition of sanity."

"So she's here too?" Aita says.

"I might be able to tell you," Berg says. "If you unfreeze me." He gestures to his legs.

Aita frowns, clearly unhappy with the answer, but apparently he's curious enough to give in. "Fine," he says. "But don't… try anything." He raises his apple pointedly, and Berg feels his feet sort of melt back into feeling. Excellent. So that means he can fight, if it comes to it. And he might have to, in a minute, because he's pretty sure his best chance here is to make Aita as unstable as possible. "We killed her," he says, and he's expecting anger, he's expecting  _rage_ —

But instead, Aita seems to crumble.

Berg hadn't expected tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... Elijah surprised me a little in this chapter xD


	11. Chapter 11

Connor has brought strays home before. It's become one of his favorite things to do, bringing people to the Homestead simply because they have no place else to be.

No. Not because they have no place else to be—because they have no place else to  _belong_. Aita (if that is his name, because even he seems unsure sometimes) is clearly one of those people. He'd just appeared, apparently out of nowhere, and either cannot or will not tell Connor where he has come from or why he is here, and the conversation between the two of them as Connor escorts the strange newcomer toward the Homestead.

"How many people live here?" Aita asks as they finally come close to home.

"About twenty," Connor says. "Sometimes more. People will pass through and stay at the Inn, and sailors from the  _Aquila_ will stay here when the ship is docked."

"You have a ship?" Aita asks.

"I can take you to see her if you want," Connor says.

"Maybe later," Aita says. They've come to the top of a hill, looking down at the settlement, at the wooden homes and the people working in and around them. "But yes. I want to see everything."

Something about his tone makes Connor turn to look at him. The way he says that, it makes Connor think of Achilles, when he wants to test Connor on some new concept or technique he's supposed to be learning. It makes Connor feel oddly defensive, because why does this stranger think he is going to come here and  _test_ Connor, and his Homestead, and the people that live there.

"Aita," Connor says, a little uncertain.

There's a brief pause, as Connor has noticed there usually is when he hears his name, before Aita says, "Yes?"

"Why did you come here?"

"Because you asked me to come," Aita says.

"No," Connor says, and turns sharply to him. He doesn't know exactly what he means, but he keeps getting the feeling that Aita is here for some  _purpose_. "Why are you here?"

Aita looks torn, and doesn't answer for a long time. Connor doesn't push. He waits, because he understands how it feels to not quite know how to say what he means.

"I need to see," Aita says at last.

"See what?" Connor asks.

Aita looks out at the Homestead again. "The world that humans have made," he tells Connor, quiet and serious and with so much…  _foreboding_ that it makes the hair stand up on the back of Connor's neck. "Why?" Connor asks.

Aita crosses his arms loosely over his chest. "I need to… see if there's any good in it."

That should make Connor more nervous—instead it makes him less. "When my mother died," he says. "It was in a fire. There had been… men in the woods." He doesn't say Templars, because after all this is still a stranger. "They hurt me, they burned my village, and my mother died. Sometimes you need to go looking for the… good."

"And is it there?" Aita asks.

"Come and see," Connor says, and leads him down to the Homestead.

-/-

Aita falls back and lets Connor take the lead. He feels… not quite right, in a way that doesn't quite make sense to him. All his memories feel new, and he doesn't quite fit them. Maybe it's a side effect of the time travel, or maybe it's something else—he can't tell, but he's hoping it'll sort itself out soon. He remembers what he's doing here, he remembers volunteering to come here and see what humans would do in the future, and how dangerous they would become. And now he's here, in a world full of humans, with his head not quite right.

He's not sure what to make of the world he's seeing now. It's a lot more primitive than anything he's used to living with, but he's not going to make the mistake of thinking that primitive is the same as  _bad_. No one is trying to argue that humans are as advanced as the isu. If they want to live in wooden huts out in the forest, it's not like that's a bad thing in and of itself.

It's just… unsettling, in a way, to see the world these people have made for themselves. Like a dollhouse come to life.

The people they pass greet Connor with genuine smiles, and a few of them start to reach out to Aita, too. He doesn't exactly know how to react to them—he's here to observe, not to make friends—and no one sticks around to try and talk.

"And this is home," Connor says, when at last they reach a house up on the top of a hill. It's… nice. Even Aita can see that it's nicer than the other wood constructions in the settlement. The Homestead, Connor calls it. Aita rather likes that word. It sounds… welcoming, in a way. "You can stay for the night," Connor says. "Until you figure out where it is you need to be."

"Thank you," Aita says. "I—"

"Connor."

An old man's voice interrupts him, and Aita and Connor both turn toward the house's front door. A skinny man, bent over a walking stick, looks back at the pair of them. He gives Aita a long look, and it's hard not to feel like he's being judged, and found wanting. It's sort of insulting—he's here to judge  _them_ , all these humans, not the other way around. "Who is it you've brought home this time, Connor?" the old man asks. "Where did you find… a Sage?"

The word should mean nothing to him. But an irrational shiver runs up Aita's spine, and he hears, like a half forgotten memory—

 _You will lose yourself_.

He can't remember where he's heard the warning, or when, or… who it came from. He shakes it off, and forgets about it.

"Sage," he says. "What?"

He must have been lost in thought for longer than he thought, because when he looks up, he realizes Connor and his… friend? (They don't look related) are in the middle of what looks like an intense conversation. Aita frowns.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asks.

The two of them share a complicated look, and Aita reads skepticism and uncertainty between them. Fair enough. He's a stranger to them. But he can't quite stop himself from thinking that the look has something to do with him—with whatever a Sage is supposed to be.

"My name is Achilles Davenport," the old man says. "And you can stay here, in my home, for one night. And then you leave."

Aita raises his eyebrows, but doesn't argue. In the morning, he'll move on.

-/-

Thanks to Haytham and Shay, it's not long before Layla, Elina, and Amunet are all back together again. After Amunet follows Haytham to Shay's home, Elina leaves the others to talk, goes to bed early, and wakes up late. By the time she goes downstairs, Layla has already shared the Sage's list of people that are supposed to be able to help them, and the four of them are arguing over whether or not it's worth going after the only other person on the list that's alive in this point in history.

"Connor won't help," Haytham says.

"You know him?" Layla asks.

"He's my son," Haytham says, so… so  _casual_ and uncaring that Elina feels bad for this Connor she's never met. She wonders why his dad doesn't seem to like him much.

"Listen," Layla says. "I understand awkward family or whatever, I think we all do." She glances especially at Amunet as she says this. "But we're fighting something we don't understand, and we need all the help we can  _possibly_ get, I don't care what kind of weird relationship you have with Connor."

"Please?" Elina adds. She doesn't think she's going to actually be able to help any in convincing her, but to her surprise (and vague nervousness), he actually turns directly toward her and gives her his full attention.

Elina takes a step backward without even fully realizing she's doing it, until she feels Amunet's hand against her back, stopping her from backing up any farther. The woman gives her a slight push forward, and Elina tries to make it look natural.

"Why?" Haytham says. "Give me a good reason that I should take you to see Connor, and I'll do it today. Now."

What? How is she supposed to convince him when he  _clearly_ doesn't trust the Sage's… prophecy, or whatever it is. That's pretty much all they have to go on, that's the only reason they've been jumping from one century to the next, trying to track these people down. Elina looks up, and frowns at him. "You know what?" she says. "It doesn't matter. We need to talk to him, and if you won't take us, we're just going to go by ourselves."

"But from what I understand," Haytham says. "You need my support as well, to fulfill what this Sage told you."

"Yea," Elina says. "But I'm pretty sure Shay's on our side, and I don't think you'll let him help us unless you're part of it too You're on the same team. So… if we go talk to Connor, and convince him to help, we have all three of you."

There's a twitch of a smile around his expression that sort of surprises Elina. It's a good sign, though, probably? Maybe?

"Your father is a Templar," he says.

"Yea?" Elina says, not sure what  _that_ has to do with anything.

"That was a very Templar way to phrase your argument," Haytham says. "I approve of your thought process."

"So—"

"So I will help," Haytham tells her. "Yes."

"Oh," Elina says. "Okay. Cool."

Haytham turns sharply on his heel and strides away, hands clasped behind his back. "Are you coming?" he asks, without turning around. "I'd like to reach him before dusk, if we're going to do this."

"Yes!" Layla says. "Yes, we're coming!" She grabs Amunet's arm and starts a low, urgent commentary that Elina assumes is a translation of what just happened. Elina trails after them, a little confused by how quickly Haytham had changed his mind. Maybe Haytham had attributed it to a particularly Templar-eque way of logicking her way through this, but that's not something Elina had learned from her dad. What she  _has_ learned is that she should question everything. Don't trust the first reason people you give you for anything. They almost always have a second motive they're not telling you.

"I think he misses Connor," Shay says quietly, when they're the only two left in the room. "It's hard to tell, he keeps it hidden pretty well. But I've known Haytham a long time, and… even if he doesn't miss Connor, I think it will do him some good to see his son."

And maybe that's true, or maybe it isn't, but it definitely  _sounds_ more true than the feeble excuse Haytham had given. Elina decides not to question it. It's true enough, and after all they're doing what she wants, and sometimes that's good enough.

They have to ride there, on actual horses, which is… not something Elina is super good at. Sure, she'd gone through a pony phase when she was like nine or ten, but that had mostly been because it was what all the other girls were doing, and anyway all they did was look at pictures on the internet and draw very bad pictures on the back of their homework. Actually riding one in real life only reminds Elina that she's way too short, and  _has no idea how to ride a horse_.

After less than half an hour of riding, they have to pause to move Elina off the horse she'd been trying to (failing to) stay on top of, and onto the horse Layla is riding. All she has to do there is kind of hang on and focus on not falling off, while Layla handles all the difficult parts of riding.

They move a lot more quickly after that.

At first there's not much conversation, but it's a long ride with not much else to do, and even Haytham opens up a little as they day wears on. He's mostly interested in Amunet, asking a series of increasingly probing questions into how she and Bayek had ended up founding the Hidden Ones, with Layla interpreting back and forth for them. After a while, when he runs out of questions and Amunet gets tired of answering, Amunet turns her attention to Elina instead.

With the same gentle, but insistent, prodding that she had used when she helped Elina climb a tower in Florence, Amunet starts to teach Elina how to ride—the correct way to sit on the horse, the correct way to distribute her weight. She even points out what each of the others are doing right—or wrong—as they ride.

"I… thank you for helping me," Elina says, after a while. "But why bother?"

She looks first at Amunet, and then at Layla, waiting for her to translate. When the answer finally comes, it's not something Elina had expected.

"She says she thinks you'll make a good Hidden One," Layla says.

Elina blushes and shakes her head, which makes Layla laugh.

"It's a compliment," she says. "go ahead and take it."

"But I… my father's a Templar," Elina says. "And I wouldn't be any good at it anyway, and what would that even mean? What am I supposed to do with that, just—"

"Fight," Layla says, and this isn't something she's translating from Amunet, because Amunet hasn't said anything. This is jus Layla's opinion. "I get where you're coming from, because this is all still pretty new to me, but it seems like the Hidden Ones just… fight. For whoever needs someone strong on their side."

"You just fight?" Elina asks. She doesn't want to argue it too much, because she can see that Layla is  _really_ sold on this, but… it just doesn't seem very noble, fighting for anything and everything.

"The world is full of underdogs," Layla says. "And people that need… I don't know, they need  _help_ , or someone to stand up for them, but they can't fight back. Why wouldn't you want to be that someone?"

Elina offers her a half hearted smile. "I mean it doesn't sound so bad when you say it like that," she says.

"Not to interrupt the career advice," Haytham says drily. "But we're almost there." And sure enough, he's already turning off the main road (although Elina has a hard time thinking of it as a  _road_ , when it's really just a dirt trail through the woods) and onto a smaller trail.

Shay hangs back. "I'm not exactly welcome here," he explains, when Elina looks at him and opens her mouth just to ask the question. "There's a place about half a mile that way where hunters camp when they're in the area. I'll wait there for you."

"What'd he do?" Elina asks, when Shay has pressed his horse on.

"Killed most of the Assassins that used to live there," Haytham says absently. "Come on. It's almost dark."

"Do you think… is  _he_ going to be allowed in?" Elina whispers to Layla.

"I mean," Layla says. "I think it's going to be  _really_ interesting."

And on they ride. It's not very long before they reach a small cluster of houses. Most of them basically looked like log cabins, but the one that they were headed for looked a little bit more refined.

"And there he is," Haytham says, in a tone that reminds Elina a little bit of a narrator on a nature documentary. "Connor."

Elina looks at the man that's just come out of the house, and she's surprised for a second just because he looks so completely unlike his father. If she didn't already know that Haytham  _clearly_ did not choose to be Connor's father, she might have wondered if he had been adopted.

Then she sees the second person that has followed Connor outside, and very nearly falls over her horse. "Elijah!" she shouts. " _Elijah!_ "

Layla has to stop and help her off the horse, which is a little embarrassing, and then she practically falls flat on her face because she's been sitting on that horse for  _so long_ she's almost forgotten how her legs work, but after a couple of hobbling steps she manages to get herself together and run toward him.

He looks at her like she's gone crazy, Elina sees that right away.

It's not until she's right on top of him that she realizes that he's also looking at her like he's never seen her before in his life. Elina slows to a stop, and grabs at his shoulder. "Hey," she says. "Elijah, what's wrong?"

"Who are you?" he asked, and his voice is all wrong. It's not just the distance that his tone puts between them, it's the look on his face—the confusion and discomfort—and the  _way_ he talks. The words just sound wrong, like he's developed an accent out of nowhere, one Elina has never heard before.

"You  _know_ me," she says, pressing her hand to her chest. "Elijah—Elijah, come on." He looks at her, still blank but getting more and more uncomfortable.

"I'm not Elijah," he tells her.

"Yes you  _are_ —"

"My name is Aita."

And Elina freezes, mouth open, blood turning to ice in her veins, totally unable to deal with this.

-/-

Aita hadn't expected to learn his own future when he traveled forward in time. He hadn't expected to learn that Juno—who, from his perspective, is still someone he is just starting to get to know, someone he's just barely started to acknowledge he  _likes_ —is going to be his wife someday, is going to do horrible, unnatural things to try and keep him alive after he dies, is going to spend tens of thousands of years waiting, slowly going crazy, slowly losing herself…

"You're lying," he says, because the idea that this is the future is honestly  _horrifying_.

"I don't have any reason to lie to you," Berg says. "The truth hurts enough, doesn't it?"

Aita turns around and  _glares_ at the man. He's starting to really think that he has a good idea of what humans are like in the future—and it's not a very good impression. "Then there must be a way to change what happens."

"How would I know?" Berg asks.

"Keep talking," Aita says. He's going to figure this out—he's not so sure, based on what he's seen of Berg so far, he's just not sure humanity is worth saving.

Juno is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I'm sorry this chapter has been so slow updating. Not sure if anyone's still waiting to read at this point, but if you are just know that I feel bad, but it's been 10+ hour days for about three weeks and I haaaate it and am exhausted. I know that's not that much work in the grand scheme of things so it's not much of an excuse, but it just really makes it hard to stay up and write, I'm sorry.


	12. Chapter 12

Khemu is learning a  _lot_ about being a pirate.

He's learning that there's a lot of work to do. A ship has more working parts than Khemu ever would have guessed—before coming here, he would have thought it was pretty much just sails, a wheel, and maybe a rudder. Now he understands that there's a whole bunch of different sails, there's rigging and pulleys and all kinds of  _stuff_ that he's still trying to wrap his head around. But he's sort of getting it. Starting to. And he actually sort of likes it.

Every day, Khemu wakes up in the packed sailor's quarters belowdecks, changes his bandages—his ribs are mostly healed, but not completely—and then goes up with the others to work, which he does all day, until sunset, until he's exhausted and ready to drop. For most of the day, he doesn't have to think—he  _can't_ think, because there's no time for it. Trapped in the past like he is, totally alone, knowing his dad is stuck in the twenty first century and there's nothing he can do to help him, Khemu's sort of grateful that he doesn't have time to dwell on it. He'd probably have gone crazy, otherwise.

At night, when the other sailors drink and shout at each other, or sing bawdy songs, or gamble, Khemu usually goes to sit by himself. Most of the ship's crew is older than him, but even though there's also a decent amount of teenagers too, Khemu doesn't fit in with them. He doesn't like to drink or gamble, and even though he gets along  _fine_ when all they're doing is working, he just… doesn't want to sit around getting drunk on rum.

It's only  _slightly_ because he'd tried it once and immediately vomited it all over the side of the ship.

Tonight, as Khemu leans up against the side of the ship, watching the horizon, he's surprised to see the ship's captain approach, obviously heading for him. Khemu tries to look casual, leaning up against the ship's railing, then realizes he looks a bit stupid, turns, still feels stupid, crosses his arms over his chest, uncrosses them—

Realizes he's pretty much crap at trying to look casual.

"Relax," the captain says, waving a hand vaguely in Khemu's direction. "I wanted to see how you've been getting on is all."

"Who," Khemu says. "Me?"

"Sure," the captain says. "It's not every day a man comes falling out of the sky, now is it?"

"I hope not," Khemu says fervently. "It really hurts."

The captain leans back and laughs in genuine amusement, and Khemu takes the opportunity to sort of look him over and get his bearings. Edward Kenway is not the kind of man that needs to  _pretend_  to look cool. He just looks cool. He  _is_ cool, and he's good at what he does, when he's actually  _trying_ to be good at what he does, and not running off on his own on one crazy mission or another.

Khemu thinks he might be an Assassin. Maybe. He definitely dresses like one, and he's always disappearing inland to do who  _knows_ what, but on the other hand, Khemu's spent enough time with actual Assassins to know that Kenway doesn't  _exactly_ fit the usual picture of what an Assassin is supposed to be like.

Really, he just doesn't know what to think of this guy.

"Can you fight, kid?" Kenway asks, when he's stopped laughing.

"No," Khemu says. He's been a little bit nervous about that, if he's being honest. So far, he's been lucky. There have been a few fights when they're in port, with some of the sailors getting drunk or stupid or both, and finding their way into trouble. But they've kept a low profile at sea, and that means Khemu hasn't even had to pick up his knife yet.

He has one now. He'd gotten it early on, and he uses it when he's working, but… he has no idea how to use it on another person.

"You should probably learn," Kenway says.

"I…" He can't quite admit that he's scared, because this isn't the right place to admit something like that. "…should probably learn," he says instead.

He's expecting a joke. Probably at his expense. Instead, Kenway says, "It's not as hard as it looks."

"I've been watching people fight as long as I can remember," Khemu says. "I grew up with fighting. My dad…" He sighs. He doesn't really want to think about his dad when he's so far away and in so much danger.

"Yea?" Kenway says. "He never taught you?"

"My Mom might have," Khemu mutters, not looking at him. "But…" He thinks of the woman he's been traveling with, and feels a slight pang of guilt. "Honestly, I think she's dead."

Kenway seems to think about that for a second, although it's sort of hard to tell in the darkness. Then he says, "Well this is your chance to learn."

"I never wanted to," Khemu admits.

"Not much choice now, is there?" Kenway says, and he gives Khemu a half pat, half slap across the shoulders. "And anyway, if you're going to learn to fight, this is really where you want to do it."

"Why's that?" Khemu asks.

"Because you're going to get a lot of practice," Kenway says, and as if on cue, Khemu suddenly hears cannon fire off in the distance.

-/-

"So he is not who he says he is?" Connor asks.

"No."

He watches the girl on the other side of the table nudge her mug around the table, trying to tamp down his own curiosity. He'd  _known_ that there was something off about Aita, but he hadn't expected to get answers. Not this quickly, anyway.

"So why is he lying?"

"I don't think he's lying," Elina says.

"But if he is not Aita," Connor says. "And he claims to be Aita, he must be lying—"

"No!" Elina sits up straighter and frowns at him. "He's not  _lying_ , okay? He's just… it happens. It's… there's these people called Sages, and I guess they all look like this guy, Aita, and after a while their minds just… they start believing that they're him." Her breath hitches. "I didn't think it was going to happen to  _him_ though. He's one of my best friends, he…"

She buries her head in her hands and takes a very long time to compose herself. Connor is at a loss for what to do or say. He barely knows her, but it's obvious that she's taking this hard, almost like he's actually died.

Maybe he has. After all, if it's his mind that's gone, if he fully believes that he's someone else, is it really any different than being dead?

"I… am sorry," Connor says quietly.

Elina makes a sad, wet noise, and shrugs like it doesn't matter if he's sorry. Connor feels… guilty, really, just for saying it. He's lost enough people in his life to know that it doesn't matter who says  _I'm sorry_ or how often they say it.

"I need to talk to him," Elina says.

"Are you sure?" Connor asks. "You are…" Her face is still wet when she looks at him. "You are upset."

"I know I am," Elina says. "But I have to at least try and bring him back. We've lost so many people, I mean… even Khemu… I don't know where he is or if we'll ever find him but I can't do anything to help him."

"Who is Khemu?" Connor asks.

"Our other friend," Elina says. "Mine and Elijah's."

Elijah, who is the person Aita is supposed to be, but Connor has never even technically met. And even the person Connor has been talking to is just… an echo of someone from a very long time ago.

"Go," he tells Elina, although the stubborn expression on her face tells him pretty clearly that she isn't planning to waiting for his permission. "Remind him who he is."

"Yea," she says, almost marching past him. "I guess that's the plan."

-/-

"We haven't found Khemu," Layla tells Amunet quietly. The two of them are outside, up a tree, giving the others space. Layla has a sneaking suspicion that Amunet's mostly up here to recalibrate, and give herself space and time to sort through things.

Really, Layla should have just backed off and let Amunet have this time. It would have been the polite thing to do. But Layla has never been good at doing the polite thing, and she wants to be here, up a tree with Amunet. It's stupid, she knows it's stupid, she should not still be feeling like this.

Don't, she reminds herself, get caught up in the bleeding effect. Things are serious, things are  _bad_ right now. She can't afford to let herself be distracted by things like  _this_ , with her stupid messed up feelings and her pointless—

"Layla?"

"I'm fine," she says. "Fine, fine…"

Amunet, judging by the look she gives her, doesn't believe this. She doesn't pursue it either, though, and Layla is more than happy to let the subject drop. "Do you think we should be looking for Khemu?" she asks. "Because… I don't know where to start or even how to look for someone in this century. I mean… I'm… I do  _computers_ , okay? They don't even have computers in this century, I don't have a clue what to do. I don't—"

"Layla, calm down." Amunet stands and steps forward, effortlessly twisting as she falls forward. Graceful. Layla is less poised as she follows Amunet, but then they're both on the ground, Amunet walking away, Layla following behind. "I know we can't go looking for Khemu. It's just not possible without knowing more about the area."

"So then…"

"Khemu is going to have to find his way to us," Amunet says.

"You think he can?" Amunet asks. "I mean, he's just a kid."

"Then this will be a good learning experience."

"Aya."

Layla stops in her tracks, and then Amunet does too. "You know that's not me anymore," she says. "Don't use that name."

"Maybe it should be you," Layla says. "Just a little bit. Because that's your son and he's missing and I think Elina's more worried about him than you are."

"You said yourself that it would be impossible to go after him."

"But I'm  _not his mother_."

And that makes Amunet flinch, so Layla presses the advantage.

"Your whole life changed when you thought he was dead and I get that but he's not dead anymore. He's alive, probably, somewhere, and you should care about what happens to him."

"That's not fair, Layla—"

"Aya—"

"Don't  _call_ me that."

"Aya," Layla says. "Life isn't fair."

And then she turns around, and walks away. Suddenly, she's feeling a lot less… distracted than she had been a few minutes before.

-/-

Several decades in the past, and an ocean away, Khemu is learning for himself that life isn't fair. He's learning that sometimes it's just luck, which side of the blade you end up on. He's learning that, because of the ship of pirate hunters that have tracked them down, and opened fire on them, and boarded them.

He's learning that he's capable of killing when it comes down to his life or theirs, and he knows this now because there's blood on his knew but the battle isn't over and he should feel absolutely terrified but he can do this and more importantly he has to do this because if he doesn't he'll die and now there's blood on his knife, again.

And then some time later, Khemu isn't sure how long because it's all kind of a blur, they're sailing away, watching the other ship sink into the ocean. Khemu leans against the closest stable thing he can fine, and breathes.

"See? First fight. Wasn't that bad, kid, was it?"

Kenway looks almost high when Khemu looks up at him, but Khemu doesn't feel the same way.

"It was really bad," he says.

"I know," Kenway says, and his smile dims by a watt or two. "But if you keep saying it, someday we might all believe it."

It doesn't sound very convincing—it doesn't sound like something his dad would say, and Khemu files that away to think about when he's less… shaken up. There has to be a better reason than what Kenway is giving him. "Can I ask you something?" he asks.

"Sure," Kenway says. "Why not?"

"Are you an Assassin?" Khemu asks, and when Kenway gives him a sideways look, Khemu taps his own wrists to indicate the hidden blades on the captain's forearms. "I grew up around Assassins," he says. "But I've never met one that acted like you."

There's a moment of genuine confusion on Kenway's face for a second, like he's trying to decide what or how much to say. He finally gives in. "Yea," he admits. "I'm not really one of them. Just picked up the blades off a dead man and I seem to keep getting drawn farther in." Too late, he seems to remember to be a decent person. "Hope it wasn't anyone you knew."

"No," Khemu says. "I'm not exactly from around here." Which only means that Kenway had killed a stranger who happens to be an Assassin. Weird.  _Weird_ , and Khemu doesn't like it.

"Oh," Kenways says. "Great. You disapprove too, don't you? All the other Assassins I've met—they just give me this look, like—" He demonstrates, and Khemu is startled into laughing.

"Yea," he says. "I can sort of picture it."

"You're not a bad kid, Khemu," Kenway says. "Weird, but not bad."

"Thanks," Khemu says. "I think?"

Kenway makes a dismissive sort of hand gesture, and Khemu gets ready to go, but before he can turn, Kenway calls him back. "I want you to tell me more about the Assassins sometime," he says. "I'm neck deep in this shite, and I need to know whether I should be running as fast as I can in the opposite direction."

"I mean," Khemu says. "All I can tell you about is what I know."

"Sure," Kenway says. "That's fine with me."

Which is how, when everything has calmed down a little bit, Khemu ends up in the captain's cabin, explaining… well, not everything, but enough. He spends a lot of time talking about Juno, because he'd been there for that, at least at the end, and he's never going to forget it. He's trying not to get too much into the time travel part, just for simplicity's sake, but he talks about how Aita had frozen his dad and the others in place, just…trapped them there.

"That," Kenway says. "Is crazy."

"I mean," Khemu says. "A lot of things are crazy. It doesn't mean it's not true."

"Oh, sure," Kenway says. "Trust me, I know that." He stands up and claps a hand on Khemu's shoulder. "Anyway, I'm sorry that's happened to you. I'd help if I could. Probably."

Khemu's not exactly sure what makes him say what he says next, but by the time he's thought it through his mouth is already open and it's too late to stop himself. "You could, actually," he says. "See there's this… list. From this guy we met in—uh, in Egypt." No point in mentioning it was  _Ancient_ Egypt, that'd just confuse things. "He's what we call a Sage."

And for the first time, he sees Kenway stiffen, like he's just been genuinely surprised. "A Sage?" he echoes, and Khemu thinks, oh great, he knows one. Just what we all need.

"Yea," he says. "It's…" He can't help thinking of Elijah. "They know things they shouldn't, basically. This one gave us a list of people that could help us, and you were on it."

Kenway's face is unreadable. "Was it?" he asks. His voice is suddenly unreadable too, and Khemu isn't sure if maybe he's gone too far.

"Yea," he says. "It was."

"Well," Kenway says. "We might have to come back to that." And that's the last thing he says before walking out.

-/-

Berg doesn't realize until too late that he's made a mistake. It's when he mentions the Temple where Juno had been trapped that he sees Aita's face change. It's subtle, but Berg catches it—after getting to know Elijah, it's almost unnerving to see how similar thir expressions are.

"Well," he says. "We'll need to go there."

It's honestly one of the last places Berg can imagine wanting to go right now. He's done his job and  _thoroughly_ shaken Aita by telling him about Juno. But he also knows it's a delicate line to walk, and taking Aita to see the place where Juno had been trapped for millennia seems like a  _bad_ idea.

It is a bad idea, and it's a bad idea that Berg can't do anything  _about_. By the time he's seen the glint in Aita's eye that says the Temple has caught his attention, it's too late to pull back and make another choice. Before Berg has a chance to even voice an objection, they're on their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Khemu the pirate in training is a fun surprise that I did not expect to get to write, but now I am extremely happy with.


	13. Chapter 13

Aita lets himself by cornered by Elina. By this point, he's found out exactly what Elina and Connor had ben talking about. They're saying he's not really himself. That he's someone else, and not Aita.

But he is. He's not merely human, and he's not merely…

"Elijah," Elina says, when she finds him. "Can we talk?"

He doesn't even look at her. Until she walks right up to him and  _glares_  (because she's not going to let this happen, she is just not at all in the mood for this and he's not going to do this to her, he's not going to  _leave_ her like this) he doesn't even seem to realize that his name belongs to him.

"What do you want?" he asks, and Elina forces herself not to flinch.

"I want my friend back." She's aware that everyone else is nearby, watching, some of them more openly than others, but they are all watching. Elijah sees them too, she can see his eyes darting back and forth, focusing on the audience behind her.

"Maybe we should have this conversation somewhere more private," he says, and it's not exactly something she's  _surprised_ he's asking for, but it still brings her up short. The truth is that she doesn't know if she should be alone with him. Right at this exact second, he's not Elijah, and Elina doesn't know who he  _is_. She doesn't know if he's dangerous.

In the end, it's the pressing weight of everyone's eyes on her back that makes Elina give in. "Okay," she says. "We can go—"

"Outside," Elijah interrupts, and the rudeness of it—Elijah, the real Elijah wouldn't just cut her off like that.

"Sure," Elina says, too flustered to say anything else. "Yea, I guess. Outside." She'd been about to suggest going upstairs, where at least they'll know if anyone's trying to spy on them, but she's not going to argue a little thing when she's about to try and argue him back into being himself.

He lets her take the lead as they traipse out the front door, so Elina takes him to a little bit away from the house. It's open enough here that she's  _sure_ they're being eavesdropped on, but she tries to pretend they're not as she crosses her arms and leans back against a tree. Elijah sits on a nearby tree stump and leans forward, clasping his hands. He looks uncomfortable or awkward or something like that. Elina can't quite tell—he's  _just_ different enough from the real Elijah that he's impossible to read.

"So," he says at last. "I don't think I need—" And then he says something that Elina doesn't quite get, something from another language or something. "—to know what you wanted to talk to me about."

"I told you," she says. "I want my  _friend_ back."

He looks up at her, and his eyes are pitying. Elina feels her hackles raise. She will  _not_ be pitied, not when she's trying to help him. "I acknowledge that I don't know all the details, but from what you've said, and what I can see for myself…" He gestures to the whole of himself. "This isn't me. It's someone that looks disturbingly similar to me, but he's human."

"His  _name_ —"

"Is Elijah," he says. "I know." And then he repeats that same word he'd used before.

Elina can feel herself starting to sink. Literally, as she slides against the tree trunk she's leaning against, and figuratively, as it starts to sink in just how wholly different this person is from her friend. She wishes Khemu was here—he's been with Elijah every day, while Elina was about a billion miles away with her dad. They know each other better than she knows either of them, but… there's no one else who can try.

"What does that mean?" she asks, for lack of anything else to say. "That word you keep saying, the one that's not in English."

He says it again, this time as a question.

Elina nods. "That's the one."

"I think the closest word in English would be… well, it's my sixth sense." He looks unhappy. "That's not a great name for it, but humans don't have the same sense."

"Elijah does," Elina says. "He just knows stuff. All kinds of stuff, all the time. He couldn't… can't control it." She's slipping into past tense, like he's gone, and hates herself for it. "He just knows stuff," she says again.

Aita—it's getting harder and harder to think of this as anything else but  _Aita's_ mind taking over Elijah's—says, "Why does he look like me?"

"You don't just know?" Elina asks. She can't help the slight bite in her words, but he barely seems to notice.

"I'm not omniscient," he says, raising his eyebrows. "So why?"

"Sages," Elina says. "I don't know, I'm not one, I don't get it. But they always look like… you know, you. And I guess…" She closes her eyes. "They met some other Sages. They told Elijah… he had to give up being him, or he'd turn into  _you_." She opens them again. "And he did."

-/-

There's something there, Aita thinks, when Elina opens her eyes and looks straight at him. It's not the accusation in her voice and on her face, exactly. It's the guilt that he's feeling, and it's… not his. Aita doesn't exactly doubt her, when she says his mind has stolen someone else's body and taken up residence. But it's oddly unnerving to feel Elijah struggling weakly somewhere far, far away. That guilt is him getting stronger.

"What do you want me to say?" he asks. "We're at an impasse. You don't need to convince me that my mind shouldn't be here. I can accept your premise. I can't contort my mind into being…  _his_."

"That's not fair," Elina says, voice shaking.

"I didn't say it was."

"Well don't just sit there like it's okay!" Elina shouts. She's back on her feet and Elijah is struggling inside him. "Elijah, we  _need you_."

"I'm not Elijah."

"You are!" She's on her feet, she's in his face, she's wild and angry and determined to change the world through sheer force of personality. "You have to be, because we need you, remember? Your dad is in danger, just like mine!"

And the shifting in his head gets stronger. It's like taking a step onto what should be solid ground, and feeling the whole thing turn to worms under his feet.

"You have to come back," Elina says. "You have to come back because without you, we're stranded here.  _We're_ stranded here, and the people we care about are still in danger from the  _real_ Aita."

"But—"

"Elijah!" She's shouting now, so loudly that a flock of birds in a tree nearby startle and take flight. "We! Need! You!"

And he's going to argue.

But.

It's like his mind has suddenly twisted itself inside out, less like Elijah is replacing Aita, and more like Aita is suddenly remembering that he's been Elijah all along. It's a transition that leaves him panting and shaken from the suddenness of it, and then shivering from the creeping horror. If it had been a case of some kind of… split personality, and Alita had just taken over him, it would have been one thing. If Aita had like… possessed him or something, he would have been able to deal with that. But this is just… he'd forgotten who he was, and he can still feel the misshapen echoes of thinking he was someone else just behind his consciousness.

After a second or two, he springs up and hugs Elina. It obviously catches her off guard, because she stumbles back a step or two and then, tentatively, hugs him back. "Elijah?"

He manages to kind of squeak, which she obviously understands as the yes it's supposed to be, because she starts to cry.

"Elijah, what happened?" she asks, and that question makes him want to start crying too.

"I don't know," he admits. "It was like… those dreams I keep having where I'm… I'm him. Only I was awake. It was just… I just…" He does cry then, and he's so, so grateful to have Elina there, because she stays right there with him while they both stand there and shake.

After a while, Elina asks, "Is it going to happen again?"

He wishes more than (almost) anything, more than anything except getting his dad back, that he could say no. "I don't know," he says instead. "It just kind of happened the first time, and I couldn't do anything about it. I know what it feels like now, so that would help, but I don't know if that would be—enough."

"It better be," Elina says, and Elijah laughs. Not because it's funny or anything, just because he's so scared and so stressed and so relieved that at least he's himself for  _now_  that he needs to do something. Elina doesn't laugh. "I'm serious," she says. "Elijah, don't ever do that to me again."

"Yea," Elijah says. "I don't want to, trust me. I just… I don't know."

He feels heavy, all of a sudden, and Elina joins him when he sinks back down to sitting. "You really don't think you could keep that from happening again?" she asks.

"No," Elijah says. "Maybe? I'd have to try it to know, and I don't want to try." He's shaking hard and he can't stop. Elina obviously feels it, because she reaches over and holds his hand. It helps—he feels his hand go steady where she's holding him, and it gradually spreads until at least he's not shivering anymore.

"Elina," he says.

"Yea?"

He swallows hard. "I'm terrified to use the apple again."

"Yea," Elina says quietly. "I'm a little scared of what's going to happen too."

"I'm scared of falling asleep," Elijah says. "Because I might wake up and think I'm… you know. Him, again."

"I can shout at you again," Elina says. "Do you think it would help?"

"I hope so." His voice cracks.

"Me too," Elina says. "Because we still need to go… we need to go a  _lot_ of places. We have to find Khemu, and then we have… four more people to get?"

"Four," Elijah agrees. "Edward Kenway, Arno Dorian, and Jacob and Evie Frye." And they're going to be the hardest to recruit—unlike Altair, and Ezio, and even the people here, the last four aren't going to have any experience with time travel and the isu. He's exhausted already. "And honestly… that's assuming the people here are going to agree to help. I wouldn't blame them for running as far as they can in the opposite direction."

He looks up, startled, and tenses when he sees Haytham heading toward them.

"You were listening?" Elina asks.

"Of course," he says. "And I have to say that it doesn't matter what—" His eyes flick, almost dismissively, toward Elijah. "I was there, in a manner of speaking, when you all fought Juno. If there is even a chance of this Aita being as bad as she was, I will be on your side. And I'll make sure Shay is with us too. Connor, you may have to explain things to him, but I have a feeling he'll come around. He is nothing if not predictably sentimental."

Elijah nods weakly, trying not to feel like Haytham is staring at him, judging him. He's feeling incredibly… fragile, right now. Like he could just shatter into a million pieces at the slightest touch. "Thank you," he says, because this is still… it's what he has to do. The only way out of this, the only way to go back home and back to his life, is to gather these people, bring them back to the twenty first century, somehow get rid of Aita, and get his  _dad_ back.

He's trying not to think how much harder it's going to be to even fight Aita, now that he's  _been_ him. It hadn't felt… bad? Being him. Different, sure, and  _wrong_ , because Elijah is supposed to be himself and not Aita. But being Aita had just felt like being a different person, confused and sort of lost, but not  _bad._

He hadn't wanted to hurt anyone, and if anything, he'd felt sort of defensive. Aita hadn't been used to dealing with people—no, with  _humans_. He wasn't sure at first if they were going to be a threat, and when Connor had helped him, it had been a relief. But what if the real Aita, when he got to the twenty first century, had felt threatened and attacked? Then maybe fighting him isn't the right move. Maybe, if they could just  _convince_ him that they're not a threat…

He realizes he's lost himself in his thoughts when he feels Elina squeeze his hand. Elijah jerks back to himself with a start. "Sorry," he says. "Sorry, I just… I was thinking. But I guess we should go talk to Connor now?"

"Yea," Elina says. "Are you sure you're—"

"I'm fine," Elijah says, and it's only sort of a lie.

-/-

Connor proves easy to convince, which is a relief. He's a little confused, which is… well, Elijah sort of feels like he deserves it. When his explanation is over, Connor says, "So what do you do now?"

"We need to find Khemu first," Elijah says. He looks sideways at Senu, perched on the back of a chair, to avoid looking at Connor. It's just too weird, to see him through his own eyes after first meeting him as Aita. Senu chirps, and Elijah  _swears_ that if she'd had eyebrows, she would have been raising them skeptically. Of course, she's known Khemu since he was practically a baby. She'll be able to find him.

"Then what?"

This time, the question comes from Shay. Haytham had ridden out to bring him back here for this, which is causing some obvious tension with the Assassins. Just another reason to hurry up and leave to get Khemu.

"Then we're going to go get everyone that's left," Elijah says. "And if—when they agree to help, I'll start bringing everyone back to the twenty first century, and then we'll… find a way to get rid of Aita and save everyone."

"Good plan," Haytham says drily. "Very thorough."

Elijah lowers his gaze and stares at the table. He's thinking of Ezio's promise to basically kick the ass of anyone that gives him trouble, and sort of wishes he could actually ask him to come here and  _help_. But… he has to do this himself, doesn't he? After falling apart from the  _second_ he got here, he can't go running back to Ezio for help. "We're working on it," he says quietly. " _I'm_ working on it, and I'm going to figure something out, okay?"

He stands abruptly, suddenly hating the thought of staying here one more second. Elina's at his side, Senu perched, close, on a chair, and Amunet and Layla nearby. "Let's go," he says. "Now." No one else moves for a minute, and he adds,  _"Please_."

-/-

They're in the middle of a fight,  _again_.

By this point, from Khemu's point of view, it's been months since he fell out of the sky, alone, and crash landed on the  _Jackdaw_. His ribs have healed, he's learned how to fight—not  _great_ , but quick and dirty and enough to survive—which still freaks him out sometimes when he stops to think about it, and to his own surprise, he's made a sort of friend out of Captain Kenway.

And…

He's convinced himself that this is going to be his life now. So he's a pirate now, because he doesn't know what else to do or where else to go, and he has no hope of getting back to the future without someone actually coming to rescue him. It hasn't happened yet. He's not sure it ever will.

So here they are, cannons firing around them, the sound of steel in the air and the smell of blood mixing with the ocean's spray, when Khemu hears a  _sploosh_ of something hitting water. Not exactly an uncommon sound during the chaos of a fight. Khemu hears the sound, registers it vaguely, and goes back to focusing on not being stuck on the sharp end of somebody's sword.

The fight's almost over, and once the other ship has surrendered, there comes the usual, grim task of cleaning up, drifting away from the flaming wreck of the ship they've just been fighting, and fishing sailors from both sides out of the brink.

Sailors, and…

Khemu sees her first, and drops his sword to the deck with a clatter. He's staring, he can't  _believe_ it, and then he's running across the ship as fast as he can, dodging shrapnel and injured men, not caring who sees.

 _"Mom!"_ he shouts, and he doesn't even have enough brain cells functioning at that moment to think that maybe she won't like to hear that, or that they'd argued. He's not thinking about how she's soaking wet or how his hands are bloody, no. He's thinking about how he thought he'd never see anyone he cares about again, and how she stands up, blanket dropping off her shoulders, and  _hugs_ him.

Khemu has no concept of how long he cries, or how long she lets him hold her.

"Khemu?"

He makes a halfhearted attempt to dry his face, and turns to see Kenway looking at him. "Does this, eh—this motley crew belong to you?"

Which is how he turns around and sees the rest of them there. Elina, hovering over Elijah, with him reassuring her of something or other. Khemu can just read his lips, saying  _I'm fine, I'm still—I'm fine_ , before Senu swoops down onto his shoulder, distracting him as she nips at his ear.

"I know, I know," he grumbles, even as he twists around to rub his fingers over the top of her head. "I shouldn't have wandered off, but I couldn't do anything  _about_ it, could I?"

Layla looks around at the aftermath of the battle, then looks at Kenway as being obviously in charge. "Is there any way we could go somewhere more private?" she asks.

"Absolutely," he says, raising his eyebrows. "As long as I can listen to whatever your story is, you can come use my cabin."

Khemu's interested in hearing that himself, honestly, so they all troop down into the captain's cabin and take whatever seats they can. The whole thing is a bit of a mess, which Kenway makes no effort to apologize for.

Elijah takes point in the storytelling. He seems tired from the beginning, which worries Khemu. When he learns that his best friend had just spent days ( _days_ , seriously? When he's been here for months?) believing he was Aita, that only makes Khemu feel worse.

"But you're okay now?" he asks, and Elijah flushes red before nodding.

"It was stupid," he says. "I should have been able to stop it."

"You couldn't have," Elina says.

"I could have  _tried_."

She gives him a look that says with perfect clarity that he needs to move on now. Elijah, clearly unhappy and still not feeling better about himself, does at least keep telling his story. Khemu listens in silence, digging his toe into the wooden floor. Kenway has a billion questions, which is probably good. They need him, right? He's one of those people on the list that they need to help them with Aita.

But as Elijah, Elina, and Layla do their best to answer Kenways questions, Khemu finds himself being pulled away by his mom. That, and the hug from earlier, have him a little confused. She hasn't acted like that around him at all since she came back. It had been exactly what he needed when he saw her standing there on the deck in front of him, but now he feels like he should be trying to get answers.

"Are you okay?" he asks her, in an undertone so the other four won't hear them talking. "Did you get hurt or something while you were—"

"No," she says. "No, but I had a talk with Layla."

"Oh yea?" Khemu says. He has no idea where this is going, and doesn't dare to hope.

His mother nods, and reaches out to him, tentatively. She's more nervous than Khemu has seen her in… ever, maybe. "I'm going to try to be better," she says, almost inaudibly.

Khemu smiles, and takes her hand.

-/-

The trip to the temple is miserable. Berg is constantly on the lookout for some way to break away and get the drop on Aita. Once or twice he thinks he sees a chance, but…

It never happens when they're alone. Normally, that wouldn't have bothered him. Normally, he wouldn't have cared. But he keeps thinking of Bayek, and Desmond, and all those cursed Assassins he's been working with as part of the Hidden Ones. And something makes him hesitate.

He'll have other chances, he decides, as they get to the Temple. He'll be able to get the drop on Aita  _later,_ when there's no one else around that might be put in danger.

"What are you thinking about?" Aita asks, as they start to pick their way into the cave entrance.

"Nothing," Berg lies. "Nothing at all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh this chapter took foreeeever to get out I'm so sorry! Almost ten days, I'm horrible. :'(


	14. Chapter 14

Elijah has to spend some time psyching himself up before taking them to the next potential recruit. He can't quite forget that he  _has_ already lost himself once, and that was while he was using the apple to travel through time. He's caught between a rock and a hard place now. He has to take everyone through to the next era—to the French Revolution, or the Industrial Revolution, he doesn't know which yet—but…

He's scared of thinking he's Aita again.

The fact that Edward keeps talking about the Sage that lives here, in this time, some pirate that's stabbed him in the back a couple times, is… it's not helpful, to say the least. In the end, that's what gives Elijah the sort of kick in the pants to gather everyone around and start time traveling. He really wants to stop hearing about other Sages.

Senu leads the way, and Elijah isn't quite sure where—when—they're going until they land. After that, when they're standing just out of sight under a bridge, his shaky grasp of high school level French kicks in and he says, "Paris." It's the first time they've been… anywhere, actually, in this whole time traveling adventure-slash-disaster, where he hasn't just heard a language and  _known_ it. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he'd started learning it in school. His own natural knowledge interfering with the sixth sense knowledge he could have had.

"Dorian," Layla says.

"What?"

"Dorian," she says again. "That's the only name on that list that's French, so that has to be who we're here to find, right?"

She's looking at him like he's supposed to have all the answers, so Elijah bites back a sigh and does his best to look like he has the answers she's expecting him to have. They're so close to the end now, but those few people that are left are going to be the hardest to convince at all.

Elijah doesn't know anything at all about these Arno Dorian, or Evie or Jacob Frye, for that matter. He assumes, with a kind of weary resignation, that he's going to  _just know_ things about them as soon as he sees them, but that doesn't mean that they're going to know anything about him. If he's lucky, they'll just think he's crazy. If he's unlucky, they'll have had some kind of run in with a Sage or Sages already. Elijah intentionally tries not to learn too much about other Sages, because there's just too much baggage there. Too many madmen, either the violent kind or the thinking-they're-Aita kind. Both options are reminders to Elijah of all the ways he could go wrong, villains with his face. One of the few things he does know is that Sages tend to interact with Assassins and Templars a lot, which means there's a decent chance that any of the people they need to look for have already had a run in with one of them.

"Elijah," Khemu whispers, elbowing him as surreptitiously as possible. "You okay?"

They share the kind of look that only two people that have known each other for a very long time can understand. Khemu looks  _more_ worried instead of less, which tells Elijah he must be looking just as freaked out as he's feeling, and he makes an effort not to look like this. He doesn't think it'll fool Khemu, because they've just known each other too long by this point. But hopefully it'll keep anyone else from getting freaked out.

Besides. He's just gotten an idea, because of Khemu.

"Just a little tired," he fibs. "Do you think we should split up and try to track this guy down?"

It's generally agreed that this is probably not the best idea in a city only one of them has ever been to before (Layla, with work, in the future), when none of them speaks the language or even knows what year they're in. Unfortunately, it's still marginally better than the only other option any of them can come up with, which is to sit here and do nothing.

They split up, and Elijah makes sure to call Khemu as his partner right away, so that when they've gone their separate ways, he can talk to his friend in private. "How did you convince Edward to help?" he asks. "He was already pretty much on board when we came in, which I assume is because of you. So what did you do?  _How_ did you do it?"

"I just talked to him," Khemu says. He sounds startled. "A lot. Like, all the time. And eventually he started asking questions and I knew some of the answers so we just talked a whole lot more and I guess he got used to it. But he was a weird guy to start with."

"How long were you there?" Elijah asks, glancing over and up at Khemu. He has to do that now. However long Khemu was alone with the pirates, it was long enough for him to hit a growth spurt, to start to get muscles he's never had before, to learn how to fight and kill.

There are times when Elijah really hates how he just knows things, but the things he knows about the time Khemu spent with the pirates make him deeply sad. His best friend is one of the kindest people he's ever met. Once, in driver's ed, not too long before all this crazy time traveling started, Khemu had gotten stuck behind an obstinate group of geese taking their sweet time crossing the road. Someone else might have started honking at them, or tried to drive past and through them. Khemu waited, because he didn't want to bother the geese.

Now he's killed people.

"Close to a year," Khemu says. "I don't know exactly."

"I'm sorry," Elijah says. He stops on the side of the street, and after another step and a half, Khemu stops too, turning reluctantly to face him. "I shouldn't have… it's my fault you were there at all."

"Don't be stupid," Khemu says, forcefully enough to surprise Elijah. He didn't talk like this before. He leans back against the nearest wall, arms crossed. He's not looking at Elijah again. He's staring at his shoe as he toes nervously at the dirty cobblestones. "I talked to Mom. And I heard what you told the captain. It wasn't your fault."

"I don't care how many times people tell me it wasn't my fault," Elijah says. "I still know it was." Nobody else went crazy and thought they were someone else. Nobody else—"

"—is a Sage," Khemu says, slowly and quietly. "You… 'lijah, listen. You remember when we all first met? Me and you and Elina?"

"Yea," Elijah says. "Of course."

"I remember what you were like," Khemu says. "You were exactly like that Sage back in Egypt said you were supposed to be. You closed yourself off, you didn't act like a person you were like… a computer or something."

Elijah licks his lips. "Yea," he admits. "I…" He doesn't like to think about that time. "Yea."

"That kid," Khemu says. "Wouldn't have turned into Aita, or whatever. But  _that_ kid wasn't my best friend. Not yet, right?"

"I mean…" Elijah closes his eyes. "I was… what does anything that happened way back then have to do with anything?"

"I don't want you to be that person," Khemu says. "And I don't want you to be Aita. And none of us is ever going to get what it's like for you or any other Sage to have to fight that, so… if you had to get lost for a little while, I guess what I'm saying is I'm glad you found your way back eventually."

"Even if you had to—"

"We're all here together now, right?" Khemu says. "And past days for you and months for me, they've sucked, but…"

They look at each other.

"I kind of get why our parents do the Assassins," Khemu says, finishing his thought. "Or the Templars, or the Hidden Ones. I mean, there's the big noble causes I guess but it's also nice to just know the people you're around all the time have seen the same kind of bad times you have."

"Sure," Elijah says. He starts walking again, and Khemu pushes himself off the wall to follow him. They're both dressed slightly off, him in clothes borrower from Connor's Homestead (and honestly, probably never to be returned at this point), and Khemu in sailor's clothes from about a century ago. But if they're a little out of style, it's not bad enough for anyone to notice. Nice to not stick out for once. "You could join the Assassins, I guess, or you could just have a best friend that gets it."

Khemu laughs, and there's a little more bounce in his step as they keep going. "Okay," he says. "So back to business, I guess. This guy Darren we have to find—"

"Dorian," Elijah says patiently. "Arno Dorian."

"Yes?"

They bounce spin around as a new voice interrupts, and Elijah feels himself falter slightly as they see the eavesdropper just a foot or two behind them, wearing dark blue Assassin robes, with the hood pushed down.

As they both stare up at him like a couple of dunces, the man says in accented English, "You were looking for me?"

-/-

Without cell phones, radios, or any other way to get in contact with the rest of the group, Khemu and Elijah go with Arno, alone. Khemu's vaguely surprised that Arno's even letting them follow him home, considering that he doesn't know them at all, but he seems like a generally nice enough—if deeply sad—person. He sort of hunches up as he walks, not like he's trying not to be seen, but like he's carrying some enormous weight that he doesn't want to deal with.

"So how is it that you know me?" Arno asks, looking back at Elijah. "You were talking about me before I picked you up. I heard my name."

Khemu and Elijah look at each other. "That… is sort of hard to explain," Elijah says. Khemu stifles a snort. It's  _really_ hard to explain.

"So give it a try," Arno says. "I could use a good distraction."

Distraction from what, Khemu wonders but doesn't ask.

Arno takes them into a café, then up a set of stairs he's obviously climbed a hundred times before, to a suite of surprisingly nice living quarters. Everything's a little bit cluttered, but Khemu doesn't comment. He's been living on a pirate ship for months, this is still way cleaner.

"We're from the future," Elijah says.

Clearly, this isn't what Arno had been expecting to hear. "Oh," he says. "Uh."

"About…" Elijah looks back at Khemu. "Do you know what year it is?"

"No clue."

"A few hundred years, I guess?" Elijah says, looking back at Arno.

"I don't know what makes that less likely," Arno says, after a brief pause that still feels very long. "The idea that you came here from the future, or that you came here from the future and you know  _my_ name."

"Well," Khemu says. "If you really want to know, a Sage from Ancient Egypt gave us a list of people that we needed to recruit to help save the future." He doesn't go into any more detail, which is probably a good thing. Explaining Sages isn't going to make any of this make any more sense. It'll just complicate it.

"Uh," Arno says again.

"Listen," Elijah says, leaning forward. "I get why you don't believe me, because it  _totally_ sounds crazy, but it's true, and the people we care about—" He gestures back toward Khemu. "Need help just to  _survive_."

"It doesn't matter," Arno says. "Okay? You can't take care of the people you care about forever."

"So that means you shouldn't try?" Khemu demands. "No.  _No_. That's my dad you're just giving up on."

"Your dad?" Arno echoes.

"Yea," Khemu says. "You ever had a da—"

"Khemu," Elijah hisses. " _Not_ the best way to do this."

And maybe he's right, because the cloud of sadness that's been hanging around him like a miasma since the first second they met is gone now, and he's suddenly angry. "You think you're going to tell me about how it feels to lose a father?" he asks.

"So you've lost yours too?" Khemu asks.

"My father," Arno says. "And the man that raised me after he died. And—"

He turns away, and Khemu realizes that whoever else he's lost,  _they're_ the reason Arno's been dragging so much.

"And Elise?"

There's a pause.

Arno looks torn. Elijah looks…

There's this look he gets when he  _just knows_  things. Khemu's not sure that Elijah knows he's making it himself, but it's always there, intense and focused, like he's seeing past the way the world works to the way the world is. After so many years as Elijah's friend, it's weirdly comforting to see, at least to Khemu. He's not sure Arno's going to see it the same way.

But after an eternity, Arno lets out a breath and says, "You know about her?"

"Yes."

"Because you're from the future."

"…Yes." 

Not true, definitely not true, but Khemu lets Elijah lie, because it's easier.

"And I'm sorry for everything that happened to them, I really am, but you are one of the people we  _need_ if we want to save our families. Arno, please."

He frowns. "I don't know. You're time travelers. Why would you need someone like me?"

Khemu sighs, and leans back as Elijah launches into a new argument. This is going to be  _hard_.

-/-

"Okay," Layla says. "Try it yourself this time."

"Yea?" Elina asks.

"Yea, go for it."

And so she jumps from the top of the roof, across a gap at least as wide as she is tall, and onto the roof of the next building. She tries to roll, the way Layla and Amunet have been trying to show her, but hits her shoulder, and skids, and comes to a stop. "Ow," she says.

The older women follow her much more gracefully, and Amunet offers her a hand up, and a sentence or two of advice. Elina turns to Layla.

"Good or bad?" she asks.

"Mostly good," Layla assures her.

Elina lets out a sigh of relief. "Good," she says. "I didn't want to—"

"Fall?" Layla asks.

"No," Elina says. She focuses on trying to twist around and rub her sore shoulder, so she won't have to look at either of them. "I meant, I didn't want to be the only one that couldn't do anything."

And there, it had been said. Somehow, it was easier to say it up here, on the roof, with Layla and Amunet, than it would have been even to say it to the boys. They knew her too well. They would have tried to help, and she… she isn't sure if she would have wanted that. "You guys are Hidden Ones. Elijah's a Sage. Even Khemu's a pirate now, and I'm just a sick kid that grew up and mostly got better. I didn't want to believe that I was going to be the only one that couldn't… help."

"You've  _helped_ ," Layla says. "Why would you—"

"What have I done?" Elina snaps, straightening up and looking back at Layla, all in one motion. " _Nothing_."

"You brought Elijah back," Layla says.

"He brought himself back," Elina says. "He's strong enough to do that, you know? I was just there."

Layla gives her a skeptical look, but doesn't say anything. Instead, she turns to Amunet, and the two of them descend into a flurry of Egyptian. That leaves Elina on her own as a third wheel, of course, and so—feeling slightly awkward now because of what she'd admitted—Elina walks to the edge of the roof.

Paris, in this century at least, isn't exactly the picture perfect city Elina's seen on TV, or once on a trip with her dad. It's all kind of sooty, and there are a lot of miserable people on the streets, looking down more than up.

It is  _huge_ , though. Enormous, and it somehow looks even bigger because it doesn't have the skyscrapers Elina is used to seeing in twenty first century cities. It reminds her a little of Florence, but they'd spent so much time there hidden away in Ezio's hideout…

"Alright," Layla says at last, heading over to the edge of the roof with Amunet. "Let's see if we can figure out where the boys went."

"We should have picked a spot to meet," Elina says.

"None of us knows where anything is here," Layla points out. "It wouldn't have done any good."

"I guess," Elina says skeptically. "But it's not exactly easy to find two people in a city this big."

"We'll find them."

" _How_?" Elina asks. She's glad the conversation has moved on from her general uselessness, although she's being pretty useless and unhelpful here and now, anyway. And maybe Layla senses that, because after a brief pause, she says, "You know eagle vision?"

"No."

"Maybe your dad wouldn't have told you," Layla allows. "He's not an Assassin."

"No," Elina says again. "What is it?"

"It's a different way of looking at things," Elina says. "It's hard to describe. It's… using more than just your eyes to see."

"Sounds like what Elijah does," Elina says doubtfully.

"It's sort of like that," Layla says. "But it's not exactly a Sage thing. It's a thing that nor—mostly normal people can do. I learned it in the animus, and it's not… it's pretty easy, once you figure it out."

"Eagle vision," Elina says. "Is… what lets Bayek see what Senu sees, right?"

"Well, yea, but—look, I'm trying to show you something cool, okay?"

Elina lets out a laugh that's more like a breath, and lets herself relax a little. Just a little. Because honestly, she hasn't been fully relaxed since this whole thing started, and she doesn't expect that to change any time soon. "Okay," she says. "So show me."

So Layla does, in fact, show her. It takes Elina a while—most of the rest of the afternoon, actually—to get it, but when she does, it hits her all at once. A new way of seeing things, of kind of… of sensing, more than seeing.

"Whoa," Elina says solemnly, in a vast understatement.

And while she's looking around, Layla puts a hand on her shoulder. For her, it's an unusually close gesture. "I haven't exactly tested it," she says. "But as far as I can figure out, anyone can learn how to do this. You don't have to be special to be able to do things, and help. You'll learn."

"I have crippling self-esteem issues," Elina says, because she can't think of anything else to say—she blinks, and the vision fades, but she knows how to do it now, and she's going to learn, or she  _is_ learning, how to climb and jump and do what the Assassins can do. It's a powerful feeling.

"You're a teenager," Layla says, not uncaring but definitely unsurprised. "Of course you are."

And Elina smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arno is a lot of fun to write when it's something specifically focusing on Arno. When he's with other Assassin he gets... depressing? I don't know. He's an interesting character, he doesn't play well with others.


	15. Chapter 15

"Why did you show her that?" Amunet asks Layla, as they pick their slow way across the city. They can't go too fast—Elina is eager to try anything they'll show her how to do, but she's learning, and she's small even for her age, and she's slowing them down. Amunet tries to keep to a leisurely, meandering pace, and focuses on conversation to distract herself.

"Eagle vision?" Layla asks. The term doesn't translate exactly into Egyptian, but Amunet catches the gist. She and Bayek had never had a real word for the way he saw the world through Senu's eyes, but  _eagle vision_ did describe it well.

"I suppose so," Amunet says. "But why would you show her how to do it?"

Layla looks at her, surprised, but not slowing down at all. It's getting dark, and none of them wants to still be outside in a city they don't know after sundown. "Because she's a good kid," she says. "And she doesn't know how to do  _anything_ that will help. At least this way she can help us see if anyone dangerous is coming. Why do you ask? You make it sound like a bad thing, but you don't have— _both hands, Elina, or you're going to fall_ —you don't have a problem teaching her how to climb."

They watch Elina hoisting herself up, with both hands, and for a moment they are silent.

Elina is clearly aware that she's walking into—climbing into—an argument, even if she can't understand enough Egyptian to know what the issue is exactly. By this point, they've spent enough time as a group for Amunet to know full well that Elina knows exactly three words in Egyptian, all from Khemu. Hello, goodbye, and a particularly eclectic curse that Amunet's honestly not sure she's happy with Khemu knowing in the first place.

" _So should we try and find them now?"_ Elina asks, into the awkward silence, and Amunet waits patiently as the two of them negotiate something or other. She's used to waiting patiently as conversations go on around her in languages she doesn't understand. It's… trying, if nothing else. Maybe she understands better than she pretends what Elina is going through with her feelings of being useless.

"We're going to find the boys," Layla says at last, when her conversation with Elina is over. "Unless there's anything else you want to do first?"

"No," Amunet says. "We can go. We should go."

And so that's what they do. They go, and after only a couple of blocks, Amunet hears a gasp from Elina. She stops dead in her tracks, turns around, and jerks forward, expecting the girl to have fallen, but no. Her eyes, when Amunet walks far enough around her to get a good look at her face, are wide and glowing, slightly?

"Eagle vision?" she asks Layla, quietly.

"I think she's a natural," Layla answers, with just a hint of pride. "It took me  _ages_ to figure out how to do it without the animus and Senu."

" _There!_ " Elina says, beaming, and she points in what looks to Amunet like a random direction.

" _You sure?_ " Layla asks, and Elina is still grinning as she answers.

" _I can see them,_ " she says.

-/-

It's late when the Elina, Layla, and Amunet come back. Their return is a relief to Elijah, and to Khemu, but apparently a surprise to Arno. But he helps find room for all of them, and invites them to stay the night.

Which is a good sign, Elijah decides, and he shares this theory with the rest of them as they huddle together on the floor of an unused room, sitting on top of a heap of blankets. Elijah keeps trying not to think of it as a sleepover, because that's just too weird.

"It's good that he's letting us stay," Elijah says, Layla's murmured translation a murmured echo as he speaks. "I think—this isn't something I  _know_ , just something I think—that it means he sort of maybe wants to believe us?"

"I don't know," Khemu says doubtfully. "He seemed pretty reluctant when we were trying to convince him before."

"Well, yea," Elijah says, rolling over on his blanket to look at Khemu. "But who  _wouldn't_? He could have just kicked us out, so that means he wants to believe us, and he wants…" He glances toward the door to where Arno is sleeping, and drops his voice. "He doesn't want to be alone anymore."

There's a silence after that, while they all consider it. The only sounds are from outside on the street, which isn't completely silent even now, in the middle of the night. Finally Elina sighs, and flops onto her back. She looks flat out exhausted, more than anyone else, but apparently she's been learning how to climb like an Assassin, so Elijah's not totally surprised. "I hope he decides to help us then," she says. "He sounds like he needs help. He sounds like he'd fit right in."

"Yea…" Khemu whispers, and by an unspoken agreement they go quiet.

Mostly quiet.

Elijah hadn't thought anything about it when Elina purposefully set herself up next to him, so it's a little bit of a surprise when—at least a quarter hour after they lie down and make themselves comfortable—Elina whispers his name.

"Yea?" he whispers back.

She fumbles her answer, then finally says, "So. Eagle vision."

"Yea?" He's not quite sure what that has to do with anything. "My dad has it. I don't."

"But it's sort of like how you know stuff, right?"

Elijah's quiet for a long time. So long, in fact, that Elijah is just thinking about prodding him for his answer when he finally does speak. "I understand it a little bit better after thinking I was Aita."

The words are barely audible and Elina's eyes go wide. She hadn't meant to bring something up that would hurt him. She's just jittery with excitement about how  _cool_ it feels to be able to see like this, and she'd thought… she should have known anything she could compare to his  _knowing_ would be bad news. But he's still talking, doesn't seem to want to stop, so she lets him go on.

"It's a sixth sense," Elijah says. "What I have? It's literally a sixth sense that the isu evolved. They all had it. It was normal, their society was like… built on it. It was part of how they interacted with each other. So for Sages, we get it because there's so much Aita in us. But for everyone else, it's just little snatches from when humans and isu would, uh," he falters. " _Breed_ with each other."

"Ew," Elina says.

"Yea," Elijah says. "But eagle vision is just… I don't know how it lasted this long but it did. Maybe it's just the strongest part of that gene, or something, but it lasted, and it spread, and it's there for anyone with the willpower to activate it. Stronger in some families than others, easier to get to, but… yea, it's a part of us as humans. And yea, it's from the same place as my knowing."

"I… didn't want to make it awkward," Elina says.

"No," Elijah says. "I'm glad you brought it up. And I'm glad it works for you, even if it doesn't work for me."

"I…"

"Tell me what it's like," Elijah whispers.

"Don't you know already?"

"Tell me anyway."

"It's… okay, it's…" It's still  _new_ , mostly, so Elina squints, and then blinks, and watches the world melt into something new. "It's warm," she tells him. "It feels comfortable."

"It doesn't hurt?"

"Not at all. It doesn't feel  _natural_ , but it doesn't feel bad either. It feels like I'm more… focused? It's easier to see what's important." She pauses, then adds, "I found you guys."

"So how do we look?"

Elina smiles. "Blue," she says. "Now. But when I was looking for you before, you were gold. Only it's not just a color, it's a feeling. You know what I mean?"

"Yea," Elijah says. "I get it." He turns over so he's lying on his back, shoulders wiggling slightly against the blankets to get comfortable. "Thank you."

Silence reigns again in the room, and Elina lets out a shaky breath just to have something to hear. There's a lot to think about from today, and she doesn't expect to sleep at all. Instead, somehow, she's asleep in ten minutes.

-/-

Arno is up before any of them the next morning, and Layla goes to find him. She hadn't slept all that well last night, mostly because Elijah and Elina were up whispering until late. She'd have told them to be quiet, or at least take it outside, but they'd seemed so intense when she looked, that she hadn't wanted to speak up. By the time they'd finally fallen asleep, Layla was fully awake and staring at the ceiling, which she proceeded to do for the next couple hours before finally managing to doze off.

Now she's awake again, and tired, and cranky, and more importantly she can smell  _coffee_ brewing somewhere close by. She stumbles downstairs, feeling less like a fleet footed member of the Hidden Ones than usual.

The café area is mostly empty, apart from a couple of employees bustling around the back and Arno, hunched over one of the tables. He doesn't look up when she comes down the stairs but she plonks herself down across the table from him. They haven't had much of a chance to talk so far, apart from a few minutes of polite small talk last night, but he looks up at her and nods. "Morning," she says.

"If you're here to try and convince me to go time travelling with all of you," he says. "It is far too early in the morning."

"No." Layla sighs and rubs her face. "I'm just looking for coffee."

He cracks a smile and gestures to the pitcher on the table next to him. "Coffee I can help you with," he says. "I don't know about the rest of it, but I can definitely help with coffee."

…and yet they get around to the time travel eventually anyway.

"I tried being a hero once already," Arno tells her, after they're both slightly more awake, and the light coming in through the café's windows has gone from pink, early morning sun to a more reasonable shade. "It didn't work out. People died. Somebody I love died, and it's my fault."

Layla smiles at him. She leans forward across the table, trying to look sympathetic before suddenly frowning and saying, "Suck it up."

"I—what?"

"I'm sorry." She leans back and sighs. "But we've been jumping around in time and it feels like every single person we talk to needs convincing and it's just like—come on, we  _need_ you."

"Not me."

"Yes you," Layla insists. "And I'm genuinely sorry that you lost someone you care about, but you don't get to just stop doing your best because you failed once. You're one of us, Arno."

"What," he says. "You're all Assassins too?"

"I—we…" She flushes very slightly. "That's complicated, but I meant that we're the kind of people that will and  _can_ do something to help other people. You can't just walk away from that."

"I've done a pretty good job of walking away so far," Arno says. "And I've been thinking of leaving Paris altogether."

"Good," Layla says. "Perfect, come to the future with us. It's about as far from home as you can get."

He twitches a smile but still says, "No thank you. I was hoping to stay in this general century."

 _"Arno_."

"I mean, it is a pretty personal favor to ask someone you just met." He's trying to deflect, that much is pretty obvious. In the face of something too serious or inconvenient for him to handle, he simply chooses not to deal with it at all. He makes it into a joke. "This is the first time we've talked."

Layla closes her eyes, and then opens them again. She tries to remind herself to be calm, and to keep in mind how crazy this must seem to him. It's hard, though. They've been doing this for so long, and it feels like… it just feels like it's never going to end. "What can we do to change your mind?" she asks.

And he's quiet for a long time. So long that Layla starts to feel suspicious that he might have something in mind, and instead of trying to decide what he should say, he's trying to decide if it's okay to say whatever it is.

"Arno?"

"Can you go farther back?" Arno asks quietly. "Just a few months. To save her."

Layla considers this. Technically she doesn't know why that would be a problem, unless it maybe puts Elijah at risk of forgetting who he is again, but something in her gut tells her that just  _feels_ like a bad idea. It would overcomplicate things, and once you start changing the past, how do you stop? How do you tell one person their loved ones are worth going back to save, and another person that theirs isn't?

"It's not really up to me to decide," she says, hedging.

"Why not?"

"Because I can't do that," Layla says. "I don't actually time travel, I just tag along with the people that  _do_ know how it works."

Arno crosses his arms, and tries to look stern. It's a good effort, but Layla can see him trembling slightly, which kind of undermines the whole effect. She sighs, and thinks well, why not try? "I'll talk to Elijah about it when he wakes up," she says. "Okay?"

"Sure," he says. "If you guys do what you can to save Elise, I'll do whatever it is you want from me."

-/-

The difference between Layla and Elijah is that, while Layla only  _thinks_ it would be a bad idea to go back in time a couple months to save Arno's girlfriend, Elijah  _knows_ that it would be, and on top of that he knows exactly why.

"A Sage killed her," he Layla. "I don't think we want to get into Sage on Sage fighting, that just seems like a  _really_ bad idea."

"How do you—no, never mind, I don't know why I even bother asking how you know things anymore."

Elijah shrugs, a little self consciously. "I mean," he says. "Even if I didn't  _know_ it, I'd still have been able to figure it out I think. Arno keeps doing double takes when he looks at me, have you noticed?"

Layla hesitates. She has not noticed, actually, but then again Elijah would be a little more likely than she is to notice if Arno doesn't trust him. "We can still try," she says. "I don't think we're going to convince Arno any other way, and we  _do_ need him, right?"

"…right," Elijah admits grudgingly.

"We're going to outnumber him anyway," Layla says. "There's one of him and a bunch of us."

"But—" Elijah bites his lip to physically pull back whatever he'd been about to say.

"What?" Layla asks.

"Nothing."

" _What_ , Elijah?"

He stares at the ground. "I don't really want to have to fight another Sage. If he went crazy, or hates everyone, it's… not his fault. I could have ended up like that too, and I'm just lucky that… I didn't go crazy or start killing people. It sort of makes it hard to start believing other Sages are just monsters."

"Elijah." She looks at him, and her tone is very firm. "You don't believe that Sages are monsters. I think maybe you're right, because you and those guys in Egypt are the only Sages I know of, and you're really not that bad."

"Gee, thanks Layla."

There's a beat or two of silence, then Layla sighs. Elijah had been trying to be funny, but she's not laughing. "Elijah," she says. "Sages aren't all evil, and it's not  _necessarily_ going to come to a fight if we go back in time."

"Okay," Elijah says. "But, counterpoint, this is a guy that killed Arno's friend. Sage or not, he's clearly not a great guy."

"Okay," Layla allows. "That's fair. But, if he's that bad of a guy, wouldn't it be the right thing to do to stop him from hurting anyone else?"

"Maybe," Elijah says. "But it still… it isn't…" He looks pleadingly at her. "It's not a good idea," he says quietly. "I know it's not."

"Then what would be a  _good_ way to do this?" she asks. "We need Arno and you know it."

They  _do_ need Arno, and Elijah  _does_ know it. But maybe if Layla hadn't basically promised they'd go rescue Elise, they could have found a different way to get Arno on their side. Now, though…

"Okay," he says. "But just you and me. Arno stays here, he'll only get emotional and that's not going to help."

"Deal," Layla says.

"And everyone else stays here too," Elijah adds. Mostly, he's thinking about Elina and Khemu. Amunet, he's pretty sure, can take care of herself, but his friends are…

Elijah frowns. His friends are actually probably better suited to this than he is. Khemu had learned to fight from an actual, real life pirate, and Elina's getting impromptu climbing lessons from Layla and Amunet. He's got a brain full of borrowed information slowly driving him crazy, and that's about it.

He opens his mouth to take it back, but it's too late.

"Deal," Layla says again. She stretches her arm up over her head until the joint in her shoulder pops, then gestures for him to get up. "We can go now," she says. "Right?"

Well, he's not going to back down now. "Yea," he says, reaching for the apple. "Sure, I guess there's no reason not to."

-/-

In the temple, Berg is more than happy to stand back and, for the moment at least, just watch what Aita is doing. Unlike everyone else Berg has ever seen or heard of, he moves around the space like he knows what he's doing, and he brings the place to life—it lights up around him, activating subsystems that Berg would never have dreamed existed here.

Whatever information he's getting out of this, he obviously doesn't like it very much. Berg watches him frown and grimace his way through whatever he's checking on, and he wonders. It must be pretty bad, whatever it is he's seeing.

Berg waits until Aita is just on the edge of the breaking point before he speaks up. It's easy to tell when that point's coming up—in some ways, in his face and manner, he's not all that different from most normal people. Humans. And the more time Berg spends with him, the easier his tells are to spot.

"Not what you were expecting?" he asks.

"No," Aita growls.

"What did you want to see?" Berg asks. "I told you what things were like. I told you what she was like. I told you—"

"I wanted you to be wrong," Aita snarls, turning sharply on his heel. His face is a mask of anger, all of a sudden, and a lesser man would have backed off. Berg doesn't. He stands his ground, and even manages to raise his eyebrows.

"I wasn't."

"Then shut up," Aita says, and storms away.

Berg follows him, pressing what he sees as an advantage.

"What are you even doing here?" he asks. "You and your kind—you've never been anything but trouble."

"Us?" Aita demands, a hand on his chest. " _We're_ the trouble?  _Humans_. You. You've ruined  _everything_."

And Berg tenses as he realizes he's gone too far.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The problem with time travel is that once you have it, you need a really good reason to not use it all the time. Otherwise you end up with characters demanding you go back in time and save their girlfriends, and there's no real reason not to do it so then suddenly you're stuck going on a random tangent into the past.
> 
> Thanks Arno :)


	16. Chapter 16

Elijah is unusually quiet as they travel back through time, and even as they land in what he assures her is the right era. Layla can't tell. It's still the same place and the same century, so she's trusting Elijah has it right.

"So where do we go?" she asks, realizing now that it's too late that they should have taken the time to ask Arno more questions when they had the chance.

"This way," Elijah says, gesturing flatly with one arm. "I know where they are."

He doesn't seem excited about it, which Layla tries to ignore. "How far?" she asks instead.

"It's a little bit of a walk."

It's getting dark out already as they head toward whatever it is Elijah can feel or sense. Whatever it is he just  _knows_ that tells him where they need to be. "So I'm probably not going to be much good when we get there," he says, when they've been walking for a while.

"You'll be fine," Layla says. "You always know the right thing to say."

"Sure," Elijah says. "But so does he, doesn't he?"

Which makes Layla stop and think, because honestly she's never wondered what it would be like to go up against Elijah. Or, worse (and more accurate), someone similar to Elijah, but with more fighting experience and less morals.

"Oh," she says.

"Oh," Elijah agrees. "Is right. Layla, I'm going to do what I can if I can figure out what the right thing to do  _is_. But it might come down to whether we can beat the crap out of that guy before he kills Arno's girlfriend." He frowns. "Elise. And when I say  _we_ beat the crap out of him, I mean  _you_ beat the crap out of him, because I'm not going to be able to help with that at all."

"Oh," Layla says.

"Reconsidering?" Elijah asks.

"No," Layla says. "We're here. We're going to help Arno, and then he's going to help us. It's going to be fine."

"Hmm," Elijah says, in a way that makes her wonder if he  _knows_ it's not.

And maybe it makes her brave, or maybe it just makes her stupid, but either way Layla just keeps going, until finally they get to the place where they need to be.

"We took too long," Elijah says, hesitating outside. "Sorry, that's—that's my fault. They're already there." He's staring through the ground like he can actually see them through the dirt. "We have to get down there, now."

"They're underground?"

"What," Elijah says, with a sudden burst of sarcasm. "Assassins and Templars fighting in dramatic yet inconvenient places?  _No_."

Layla rolls her eyes so hard it almost hurts, but she doesn't say anything as she follows Elijah down deep under the Earth. It feels like they're running forever, and Layla doesn't know what's going to happen if they don't get there in time, but finally they come out into a slightly more spacious area, with three people inside. One is obviously Arno, Layla recognizes him. The second, the only woman, is obviously the person they're here to save.

And the third is a Sage.

-/-

Arno at least has the decency to tell them that Layla and Elijah have gone back in time without them, although he doesn't say anything until they're already gone and it's too late to do anything about it, Elina can't help but notice. There's no point arguing, or trying to understand it. She rolls her eyes and Amunet mutters something that Elina can tell without speaking Egyptian is rude, but there's nothing they  _can_ say.

And there's nothing they can  _do_ , either, except wait.

So Elina goes looking for Khemu instead, and when she finds him in their borrowed bedroom, she says, "Do you want to go out and see the city?"

Khemu looks up from what he's doing, and Elina's surprised to see that what he's doing is sharpening a knife. She's seen her dad doing it a hundred times, and it's  _weird_ to see Khemu sitting the same way he does, going through the same motions, just like her dad would, back home.

"You know they're in the middle of a revolution, right?" he asks.

"But when are we ever going to get to go to Paris again?" Elina says.

"Who knows," Khemu says. "But I mean—this isn't the  _best_ time to go exploring, is it?"

"We can take care of ourselves," Elina says, which is probably a  _little_ optimistic. She's pretty sure Khemu can take care of them though, even if the best she could probably do is run away. She's like… at least ninety percent sure that she could get up a wall and away before anyone caught up to her, and she's itching to practice.

It's fun. She can't help being excited.

Khemu gives her a long, considering look, then follows it up with a lopsided smile. "Okay," he says. "Sure, why not? There's nothing else to do until Elijah comes back."

"It shouldn't be too long anyway, right?" Elina asks. "It's time travel, he's not going to be away that long, I guess?"

"Who even knows?" Khemu mutters. He shakes his head and gets up off his makeshift bed. "I wish he hadn't gone."

"I wish he'd at least told us," Elina says.

Khemu sort of laughs. "Let's make sure we make people know before  _we_ head out."

"Nah," Elina says. "Let's just run away and never come back."

They head downstairs together, bantering, and after a brief stop to tell both Arno and Amunet that they're heading out, they go.

For about an hour or so, it is fun. They go poking around the city, feeling like some mix of explorers and adventurers, and for a little while it all feels like a game. After all the time they've spent running around and pushing forward, it's a nice change to be able to just screw around.

"Hey," Elina says, when it's close to noon and they're just starting to think about heading back and maybe getting something to eat. "What's going on over there?"

There's a cluster of people about a block away, and some shouting in French.

"I don't know," Khemu says, but when she slows down he does too, and they stand next to each other on an empty patch of road, watching what's quickly turning into a fight.

"What do we do?" Elina asks. "Do we just stay out of it, or do we help?  _Can_ we help?"

"I…" They look at each other, and Khemu nods. "Yea," he says. "We can."

The buildings in this area are low and close, so even with Elina's general lack of experience, she's able to get up and onto a rooftop close to where the crowd is, while Khemu goes in at ground level. She knows she's going to be a lot less helpful than he is here, but her heart is racing.

She's not scared at all, even though she should be. But she is excited.

From the roof, she has a better view of what's going on. A couple of men have started fighting over—ew, actually, it looks like they're fighting over a girl that's stuck between the two of them. Elina scowls and crouches just on the lip of the building, watching as Khemu walks closer. He looks up, for her, and she points— _one, two_ —the two guys that are fighting. He nods, and then she gets to see what he's learned with the pirates.

He's not the best fighter she's ever seen. Her dad's the best fighter she's ever seen, and Elina doesn't think she's ever going to see someone better with a knife than he is, and Khemu is still new to it. But when he learned how to fight, it was because he needed to learn to survive. There's no room for mistakes when you learn how to fight like that, that's what Elina's dad has told her. It's why he never wanted her to learn. Because if you screw up, you don't get to learn. You're just dead.

Anyway, Khemu might not be the best, but he's better than the two guys still duking it out on the street. He doesn't say anything, not that Elina can hear from the roof, he just goes for the closer guy and manages to scare him off in less than thirty seconds. The other guy, though—he takes advantage of the chaos to grab the wrist of the woman they'd been fighting over and he drags her away, still screaming.

Khemu's busy with the first guy, so Elina—she doesn't really have a plan, she just starts moving and figures she'll come up with something—starts creeping along the roof just to keep him in sight. But when he starts to turn away, she panics. They're going to lose him.

It's a really bad idea, but the adrenaline is still pumping and she wants to help, so—

So she just jumps on him, and knees him hard in the face, and by the time he's done cursing her in French, the woman has run off. Elina gets a little bit kicked too, which hurts, and the guy gets away which is probably for the best because she doesn't know what they'd have to do if he stayed, and then Khemu catches up.

"You okay?" he asks.

Elina accepts the hand he offers her, and gradually starts to get her breathing under control. "Wow," she says.

"Wow?" Khemu echoes.

"I did not hate that," Elina says, and Khemu laughs.

"Yea," he says. "I can tell. Come on. Let's get back already. I'm starving."

-/-

Elijah isn't really expecting to feel much when he sees the other Sage. After all, he's seen them before. In Egypt. He's not totally weirded out by seeing strangers with his face anymore. But there's something about this guy that's just… different. Creepy? When he and Layla first show up, the other three people in the room are in the middle of an intense fight—there's some kind of piece of eden involved too. There's a tang of ozone in the air, and a bright light flashing sporadically, half blinding Elijah. Layla, eyes glowing dimly from eagle vision, seems unaffected.

He's still trying to figure out what to do when suddenly it all stops. The light fades, and the sounds of fighting stops abruptly. There's a little bit of confused sounding whispering in French, probably from Arno and his girlfriend, and then the other Sage (Francois-Thomas Germain, part of his mind whispers, he's a Templar and a silversmith and probably a little bit crazy) speaks.

"I know you're there," he says. "Come out into the light."

A chill runs down Elijah's spine. Not so much because of the words themselves. He pretty much expects Germain to know exactly where he is, who he is, and what he's doing there—that's just a given with a Sage.

The part that really makes his skin crawl is the language Germain chooses to address him in. It's the isu language. He remembers it from when he thought he was Aita.

Elijah takes a deep breath and stands up. "Stay here," he tells Layla, and doesn't wait to see if she's listening before walking out into the open. Germain is standing in the middle of an open space, holding a massive sword too-casually in one hand. Elijah has to walk past Arno and his girlfriend to get to Germain, both of them looking totally confused to see him there. Yea, that's… that's probably fine. There's really no way to explain it at this point.

Germain studies him for a long moment before saying, "Elijah… Miles."

Elijah can imagine how the information is coming to him. A trickle at first, a first name and then a last name, and then more and more—and there's nothing he can do to hide. It's like walking through a crowd totally naked.

"Hey," Elijah says. He uses the isu language as well, because for whatever stupid reason, he hasn't picked up French. Maybe there's no more space in his brain for languages or maybe the universe is just laughing at him. He doesn't know if they have any other languages in common, so like it or not ( _and he does not like it_ ) they're going to have to stick to Isuan.

Germaine raises an eyebrow at Elijah's casual greeting, but Elijah doesn't really care if Germaine thinks he's not taking this seriously enough. One of them is wearing an ominous cloak and hood and carrying a magic sword, and Elijah  _isn't_ that person. He's not winning a coolness competition, so he might as well not even bother.

"I don't appreciate being interrupted while working," Germaine tells him. "You're… three hundred years outside your own time?"

"Give or take," Elijah says. "But I… need a favor." He has no idea if this is the right way to go, but he's pretty sure that lying would be pointless. Germain will see through him as easily as Elijah would be able to see through any of  _his_ lies.

"No," Germaine says.

"You didn't even let me ask," Elijah says.

"You're here for the de la Serre girl," Germaine says. "You do realize she's here to kill me?" He says it almost academically, as if he doesn't know or doesn't believe that he's going to die here today. And as if on cue, there's a sudden burst of movement, and Germaine turns to meet it, sword raised.

"No!" Elijah says, raising a hand and jolting forward—too late. Light pulses out from the sword, and Elijah can't do anything to stop Elise from flying backward. She hits the wall, which makes a horrible noise, then groans and pushes herself slowly back up to all fours. So at least she's still alive.

Germaine plants the tip of the sword in the ground in front of him, then rests both hands on the hilt and smiles at Elijah from under his hood.

"I need her," Elijah says.

"For what?"

"For—it's a long story. I just need her to survive, that's it. If you're worried about her killing you if she lives, I can… I—" He can't do anything, and to be perfectly honest he's not sure that he's okay with this guy living through today. The longer he stands here with Germaine, the more he  _knows_  about him. He's done some pretty terrible things.

"Listen," Elijah says quietly, stepping forward. "I know you see things the way I do. You know things you're not supposed to. You're a Sage."

"If that's what you want to call it. Hold that thought."

"What—" But then he sees that Elise is making another run at them, and Germaine is raising the sword again. Elijah doesn't have to be a Sage to figure out where this is going. Germaine's only going to hold onto his patience for so long before he actually kills Elise, instead of just knocking her away.

Elijah doesn't have a sword, and has no idea how Germaine's works, but he does have something else. He grabs for the apple with one hand and with the other reaches forward and grabs Germaine. He's hoping for the best here, but it might not work, and even worse it might trigger Aita in him again. But he can't let Elise die—it'd mean losing any chance of Arno helping them, and also… well, he just doesn't want to watch someone die. So he reaches out for Germaine and he pulls him just slightly out of time. He doesn't want to travel through time, just… step away from it for a minute.

And to his relief, that's pretty much what happens. The world around them freezes and turns a kind of soft grey, leaving just him and Germaine. He squeezes the apple and frowns at Germaine, trying to look older than he is. "I need her alive," he says. "To stop Aita."

The name obviously means something to Germaine, luckily. His expression is confused but also suddenly… wary.

"I've been dreaming of that name for forty years," he says quietly. "Who is he?"

Elijah eyes him warily, then says, "I'll tell you everything, as long as everyone walks out of here alive."

There's a long silent moment while Germaine considers it. Elijah, for all his knowing, has no clue what the older Sage's answer is going to be until finally Germaine nods from under his hood. "Done," he says. "Tell me."

Elijah steers away from specifics of what Aita is doing to his family back in the twenty first century. But he tells him what he knows about the isu, and Aita specifically, and what he's learned from the other sage back in Egypt. For the first time, he explains exactly what it had felt like to spend days thinking  _he_ was Aita. "If you haven't been through that," he says. "Then… be careful. You don't want it to happen to you."

"I have… lost days before," Germaine admits. "Possibly to him. I don't remember."

They look at each other, but it's clear the conversation is over. Their business is over, and Elijah grabs the apple, lets time go on as normal.

He doesn't even see Arno coming up behind Germaine until it's much too late—just like that, in a heartbeat, Germaine is dead. But Elise is still alive, so… that's a job well done, maybe? Elijah can't help but think it's not. He stands there for a minute, gaping, then…

He practically lunges at Layla, turning away and hunching his shoulders so Arno won't see him and figure out who he is. He has a feeling that changing the past like this, letting Arno see his face, will be a great way to make sure Arno never trusts him again.

"What happened?" Layla shouts at him, as he pulls her away, into the future where they'd left Arno and Amunet and Khemu and Elina.

"It's—we…" His heart is still pounding and he sort of wants to throw up. "We were talking," he says. "Just talking, but we had to—I pulled him out of time, just a little bit, because he was in the middle of a  _fight_ , and it just—he was going to leave, he  _was_ , but Arno…"

Layla grips his arm tightly. "Don't," she says firmly. "You know he was dangerous. You  _know_ that, don't you?"

Elijah nods numbly. He does. As much as he had in common with Germaine (his face, and Aita), it doesn't change the things that he'd done and the people he'd hurt. "I know," he says. "I'm just—shocked. It's just shock."

"You sure?" Layla asks. "You're okay?"

Elijah looks at her, and part of him cracks. "Layla," he says quietly. "He had my  _face_."

And Layla lets him take his time as Elijah struggles to process the sight of someone that looks like  _him_ being stabbed in the back by someone he very much wants to trust. He wonders, he can't help wondering, what he's going to do when they finally get back home and he has to face Aita.

-/-

When they're back in the café, Layla stands at Elijah's shoulder as he goes to Arno. He is composed, and calm, as he reminds Arno of their deal. If Layla hadn't known that he'd fallen apart on the way back…

"I remember," Arno says. "I remember—it happened two different ways." He's breathing quickly, and he looks almost awed. "You saved her."

Layla watches Elijah struggle with what to say. She watches him pull himself together, and right in front of her eyes, she watches him grow up a little bit. He must know as well as she does that Arno had done the only thing he could do in that moment, and that it's probably a  _good_ thing Germaine is gone. From what Layla's heard, he was dangerous, amoral, and probably crazy.

"Of course," Elijah says, with a close to believable smile. Arno doesn't seem to notice anything off. "Now will  _you_ help  _me_?"

"I'll do whatever you need me to," Arno promises.

"Great," Elijah says. "Then just… stay here, and be ready. After everyone else is ready, we'll come back and get you."

"Got it," Arno says. He holds out his hand, and Elijah shakes it. "And thank you. I mean it."

-/-

Aita has never been angry before the way he is now. Furious, actually, he's  _furious_ , because this is an emotion that comes from fear. He's out of control and out of his depth and humans like the one standing in front of him. Aita feels his hand bawl up into a fist, and he so badly wants to lash out at the smug human in front of him.

But he does't. He is shaking so badly that he's not sure if he'll ever be able to stop, and the ever present spectre of Juno, what she'd left behind in this place after centuries as its prisoner. Aita isn't sure he'll ever be able to stop shaking again, but he isn't going to start over with a whole other human, who will have to have everything explained to him all over again.

But this place… this place that had  _tortured_ Juno beyond sanity, almost beyond recognition…

He's going to destroy it.

He hits the human, and more out of luck than anything, watches him fall like a puppet with his strings cut. Then he goes back into the systems, and rigs it to self destruct. There's just enough time left afterward for him to grab the human and drag him clear of what turns out to be an incredible explosion—the heat of it wakes the human up again. Aita tosses him to the ground, watches the fear flicker in his eyes as he snaps back to consciousness.

Great, a rational part of his mind reflects. Now we're  _both_ terrified. He pushes this to the back of his mind, watching as the man forces himself to sit up. "So what happens now?" he asks.

Now? Aita doesn't have a plan for  _now_. He doesn't have a plan for what he's going to do in the next thirty seconds, much less anything after that. Stopping the humans from taking over? Can he figure out how to do that? He still doesn't know enough about how humans work, he has no idea how to stop them from getting to this future. "Convince me," he snarls. "And remember I'm not in a good mood."

Behind them, the temple burns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sort of regret starting the Aita and Berg plotline so early, because that part is just ready to explode and no one else is ready xD They still have to convince the Fryes to help, and you know that's not going to be the quickest and easiest stop they have to make.


	17. Chapter 17

London smells  _really_ bad.

That's Khemu's first impression of the city, and next to him Elina is coughing and dry heaving, possibly for dramatic effect, because she stops when Elijah turns around and raises his eyebrows at her. Her sudden quiet makes him laugh, and for a second everything is fine. Then he yawns, and his exhaustion catches up with him all at once. They'd left Paris in the evening, after a long day and a restless night and some time travel thrown into the middle of it for good measure. Elijah's starting to wish they'd waited until morning to leave. He could have used the rest.

"We stick out again," Elina complains. "We're going to need more clothes."

"Victorian London," Khemu says. "Are you going to start wearing corsets, Elina?"

"Ew,  _no_."

"You'd fit in."

"No way, Khemu!"

"You'd look nice."

She gives him a surprised, open mouthed look, completely fails to come up with an answer, and eventually manages to closer her mouth again.

They are actually attracting a lot of attention though. Khemu, Elina, and Amunet are in clothes borrowed from a stash in Arno's café. Layla and Elijah hadn't gotten a chance to change out of clothes they'd gotten from Connor, a solid century before where and when they are now.

And Elijah has  _zero_ energy to figure out where they're going to get clothes.

"Let's get a base set up," Layla says. "Elijah, you and I will find somewhere to rent or crash or  _something_ , you guys find clothes and maybe some food, and we'll meet up again in a couple hours to plan our next move."

"Sounds good," Elina says.

"Yep," Khemu agrees.

So they split up again. Two more Assassins, Elijah reminds himself. They have  _everyone_ else rounded up, now they just need to get two more people to agree to help, and they'll be able to finally go home. They'll save the day—well, they'll  _figure out_ how to save the day, and then they'll save it, and everything can go back to normal.

He really misses his dad.

"I like being in places where everyone speaks English," Layla says as they head into a slightly nicer area. "I feel so much less clueless."

"I like being in places where we already have someplace to stay," Elijah says.

"Hotel, maybe?" Layla suggests. "Ooh." She grins at him. "It must be all cash in this century, right? We could steal some and go somewhere nice."

The idea of not sleeping on a floor is too tempting to say no to.

-/-

They haven't been walking for long when it starts to rain, which is annoying but at least helps to clear the streets a little bit. They end up—well, to be perfectly honest, Khemu is pretty lost by the time they find a laundry line to steal some clothes off of. Changing is sort of hard to manage on the street, but after that's done they can move around a lot easier.

Elina seems pretty lost in her own thoughts, so Khemu turns to his mom instead. Things have been a little less frosty between them lately, but it's still hard to start up a conversation with her. She's still a stranger, even if she  _is_ , more and more, his mom. "What are you going to do after it's over?" he asks. "Will you go home?"

She's quiet enough for long enough that Elijah starts to wonder if he'd picked a bad time to ask. Finally she says, "I would like to go home."

"Oh," Khemu says. "Sure. Why wouldn't you?"

"I have a life there," his mom says. Her voice is almost gentle, and Khemu wonders if she's trying to let him down gently.

"Dad had a life there too," Khemu says. "Once. But he left."

She seems genuinely surprised when she looks at him. "Are you saying you would have wanted me to come back with you after all this is over?"

"Would have—" Khemu almost can't make himself say it out loud. "M-mom… I  _do_ want you to come live with us. I know you have a life in Egypt, but… I'd really like to get to know you. Other than, you know, being on the run. Or from when I was a toddler. Don't you want to know me?"

He feels bad as soon as he says it. That was going too far—it was mean. She doesn't know how to answer, and Khemu's just thinking about how to apologize, when his mom surprises him by saying, "Yes."

Khemu turns his head to look at her so fast he almost gets whiplash. " _Yes_?" he repeats, just checking that he'd heard her right, and his already-stretched grasp of two thousand year old Egyptian hasn't just failed him.

"Yes," she says, and stops. Khemu stops too but Elina, several steps ahead of them, has to backtrack when she doesn't realize right away that they're stopping.

"What's going on?" Elina asks, looking between them.

"Hang on," Khemu says, not taking his eyes off his mom. "I really need… to… to  _hear_ this."

"Khemu," his mom says. "A lot of the things that went wrong in my life happened because our family fell apart. Everything important was missing."

Khemu, despite the serious circumstances, feels his chest swell at hearing that he's part of her  _everything important_. It's such a dumb, simple thing to hear from his mother, but it's new for him. His dad has never been quiet about the fact that  _he's his dad and he loves him_ , but his mom?

"So does that mean you'll come back?" he asks.

"It means… I want to. But I don't know if I can. I'm not the same person anymore."

"That's okay," Khemu says, and means it. "I'm not the same person anymore either." When he was living in Siwa, running around with the other boys, playing in caves or getting underfoot in the streets, he never could have imagined the person he'd grown into. These days, he's a time traveler, and an almost-pirate. He wants to finish high school and get into a good college and study computer science. He's getting complicated, and his mom doesn't seem to have any problem with that. "Come home?"

And she actually smiles at him. "Maybe for a little while," she says.

Which is going to have to be enough for Khemu for now.

He's starting to walk after Elina when his mom grabs him by the shoulder. "Khemu," she says.

"Yea?"

"You're strong," she says. "And you're kind. I'm proud of you."

And Khemu learns that okay, apparently there's something he wants to hear than his mother saying he's important. He wants her to be proud of him.

-/-

Layla is asleep when the other three get back, and Amunet is restless enough to volunteer to go scope out the neighborhood. Elijah, Elina, and Khemu share a look, then gather in a corner to whisper together.

"You look really happy," Elina says, nudging Khemu with her foot. "So spill! What were you and Amunet talking about?"

"Nothing."

Elijah raises his eyebrows and gives him a look.

"No," Khemu says, raising a warning finger and pointing it at Elijah. "Don't you—don't you read me, or know things about me, or whatever you're doing."

"I'm not—"

"You definitely are," Elina says, turning from Khemu to Elijah. "What happened?"

"Elijah!"

He can see it, plain as day, like it's written on Khemu's face. Honestly, Elijah's pretty sure he'd be able to see it even if he didn't already  _know_ exactly what happened between Khemu and his mother. Khemu's his best friend, and this is the way he's… supposed to look. Complete. Can everyone see that? How could anyone look at Khemu and  _not_ see…? It's just… it's so clear, to Elijah.

Sometimes, it really hits him how differently other people must see the world.

"I just needed to talk to her," Khemu says. "So I did."

"And are things better now?" Elina presses. Obviously she's not going to just let this go.

"Yea," Khemu says. "I think so. Sort of. Not perfect, but she might… she said she might think about coming home with us, after…"

Elina squeals ("Shh!" Elijah hisses), and hugs Khemu. "I'm so happy for you."

Khemu looks pretty happy for himself too. "Now we just have to get home, right?" he says. "Beat Aita, save the world, go home."

"Sure," Elijah says. "Easy."

"Not easy," Elina says. "But let's do it anyway."

A rustling from the other side of the room makes Elijah look up and over—Layla's sitting up in bed, yawning and squinting at them. Elina's squealing had woken her up. "Sorry," he says. "Sorry—we'll get quiet. We should probably get some sleep too, actually, if we're going to be tracking down the last two Assassins."

"I'm not your babysitter or your mother," Layla says. "But yes, please, go to  _sleep_." She gets back to bed, turning over so her back is to them.

There's a little bit of grumbling and then probably more noise than Layla wants while they get to bed, and by the time Amunet comes back in about an hour later they're all sprawled out, fast asleep, except for Elijah. He's closest to the window and stirs awake when Amunet comes through. He doesn't move, just kind of squints at her as his brain tries to decide whether it's worth waking up the rest of the way.

She looks around, takes in the four of them sleeping on beds, on couches, but not—Elijah had been insistent on this—on the floor, for once. Then, deciding that no one's watching her, she seems to relax a little. Amunet yawns, runs a hand over her hair, and squints at the group. Elijah isn't sure what she's looking at, until she seems to spot it, and—oh, okay. She heads for where Khemu is sleeping, and for a timeless forever, Elijah watches Amunet watching Khemu. She doesn't say anything and he doesn't wake up. Finally, after a very long time, she reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder. She must be touching him very lightly, because he still doesn't wake up.

After a while, when Amunet doesn't move again, Elijah's eyelids start to feel heavy, and he closes them. Before long, he's asleep again.

-/-

They all sleep in the next morning, but Layla gets hungry first so she's the first one to actually leave the room and head out in search of something to eat. London has been awake for hours already, and there's plenty of places around for Layla to pick up  _something_. The trick, as always, is to find something that looks edible and clean by twenty first century standards. It takes a little while.

She's halfway back to the hotel when she suddenly hears a couple of people scream, and someone nearby curses as well. Layla almost drops her bag full of pastries, tensing for a fight, but it doesn't come. The reason everyone is freaking out is because of the train that's coming toward them, screaming along the tracks the way that only two hundred pounds of steel and steam can. Or—well, it's not the train, exactly. The train is fine, a regular event that even Layla's started to get used to, after less than two days in the city.

The problem is the fight happening on  _top_ of the train. Layla squints, switching immediately to eagle vision, which helps her make out the details. Two people, a man and a woman, seem to be fighting off a much larger group of burly looking men. Before the train whisks them all past and out of sight, Layla sees that the man and woman are both wearing unusually large hidden blades. So—Assassins.

"Great," she says, watching the train until it's  _well_ out of sight. "Two more Assassins to get, and they're both crazy." She turns around, kicking a loose rock along the street and into the gutter. "Absolutely figures." Fighting on top of a train. Who fights on top of a train? It's unnecessarily dramatic.

She forces herself to stop grumbling and instead make small talk with a few people passing by. Most of the other people she talks to are as confused as she is by the sight of a whole group of people slugging it out on top of a train. A few seem downright offended by it, for some reason. But finally, after about five or ten minutes, she comes to a couple of people that  _don't_ seem as confused as everyone else.

It takes some creative questioning and a little bit of patience, as the people she's talking to are both a little long winded and prone to gossip, but eventually Layla learns that while this kind of thing doesn't happen much around here, it's not that uncommon in certain other parts of London. More specifically, she learns about the twins that are just starting to cause trouble, who apparently live out of a train, and who Layla would bet money must be the Fryes.

She manages to learn where the train is seen most often, then takes this information back to the hotel with her load of breakfast pastries.

"Why is it," she's already saying as she heads inside. "That we keep stumbling right onto the people we're supposed to recruit? I mean don't get me wrong, I'm not mad that we haven't landed in like Antarctica or anything, but every time so far we've just stumbled right onto however we're looking for in like less than a day. There must be something in the way we're traveling through time, right? Like Elijah can just find the right year, I guess it's not that weird to think he'd be able to find the right place too."

She stops, then sighs. "And everyone's still asleep, apparently," she mutters.

The only answer is a sleepy, nonverbal mumble from Elina.

-/-

Later in the day, when everyone has woken up, eaten, and been snarked at by Layla for a while for sleeping in, they get to planning.

"If they live in a train, they can't be  _that_ hard to find," Elina says.

"They live in a train," Khemu adds, in an undertone. "That is  _so_ cool." This might be his favorite place they've been to so far, even counting Egypt maybe, and he's  _from_  Egypt.

"We have the area, right?" Elijah says. "I guess we'll have to stake it out, or something?"

"Probably." Layla makes a face. "Sounds boring, but what else are we supposed to do?"

Khemu starts to ask, "Do you think we'll get to fight on top of a tra—"

But then he stops, because he's just heard the words coming out of his own mouth. Is he actually looking forward to a fight? Easy answer is, well yea. It sounds kind of crazy and different and… yea, he wants to have a fight on top of a train. A few months ago, he would have thought that was stupid and dangerous.

He's changed more than he thought.

"If we have to do any train fighting, it's probably going to be you guys," Elina says, pointing to him, his mom, and Layla. "Elijah and I will watch, since we don't know much about that."

"Team Not Stabbing People," Elijah says, leaning over to kick Elina's ankle. She kicks him back and laughs, and Khemu feels suddenly left out. It's not like this is their fault, he'd just… he'd had to learn to fight because of where he was, no one else was with pirates and if they had been, they probably would have learned how to fight too.

He doesn't hear most of the rest of the plan. Sort of just tunes in when Layla assigns him a time to be a the stakeout and looking for the train. They're going to be in pairs, with a third person out on the streets asking questions, rotating every couple of hours until they find what they're looking for. Khemu's first shift is with Elijah, later in the day.

Khemu is moody and unhappy most of the rest of the day, and when he finally leaves with Elijah to go and relieve Layla and his mom, he's practically stomping. Elijah doesn't say anything for a good long while, not until they're at the stakeout spot and settled, but then he says, "There's nothing wrong with being able to punch people. Or stab them."

They're in a corner of a train station, the one where the train they're after apparently stops more than it stops anywhere else, to take on people or cargo or whatever else trains do. Layla hadn't gotten many details. Khemu looks around before answering, but nobody's close enough to be listening.

"I never wanted this," he says. "I never even wanted to be an Assassin, and look at me now. I'm just a… I don't know. I'm just a brute, I'm not  _even_ an Assassin." He can feel his lip quivering like he's about to cry, and fights to keep it steady. "I'm just a guy that punches other guys."

Elijah looks over at him, rolling his eyes. "You don't  _really_ belie—oh my God." He stops, almost mid eye roll. "You do really believe that."

There are some very rare instances when Khemu wishes he could hide things from his best friend, and this is one of those times.

"Let's just say I'm having some… questions," he mutters.

"Here's some answers, then," Elijah says. "I know you. You're fighting because this is really important."

"And because it's fun," Khemu admits.

"Like what you do, and you'll never work a day in your life," Elijah quips. Khemu looks at him, deadpan. Elijah sighs. "Look," he says. "When this is all over, you never have to pick up a sword again. Or you can join the Assassins, or the Hidden Ones, or the Templars, although I think your parents  _might_ disinherit you for that one."

Khemu forces a laugh. "Yea," he says. "Maybe not the Templars." Honestly he's not thinking about his parents—he's thinking about  _Elina's_ dad, the through and through Templar, who still sort of scares Khemu.

"And…" Elijah's voice is quiet. "What about the rest of it? The Assassins, or the Hidden Ones?"

It's always easier for Khemu to tell things to Elijah, because he always half suspects he knows already. Even if he's wrong, it makes the saying of it easier. "Maybe."

And Elijah doesn't press it. Good. Khemu doesn't know how he'd answer. So all he has to put up with is Elijah kind of looking at him in concern, which is sort of annoying but also sort of reassuring.

Unfortunately, as it turns out, it's also kind of distracting. Neither of them notices someone heading toward their stakeout spot, the out of the way bench where they've been sitting and waiting. He's just there all of a sudden, big and bold as life, sitting himself down between them before they have a chance to protest.

"I admit," the man says, while Khemu tenses. "I'm pretty curious why a bunch of strangers showed up in town and started asking questions about us and watching the station. So I thought, why not just come ask?"

"Who are you?" Khemu demands. His mind has already jumped to what he can do if this guy starts to threaten him, or Elijah. He has a knife the size of his forearm strapped to his back under his shirt. His mom had passed it off to him when he and Elijah showed up for their shift. Khemu… hadn't asked where she'd gotten it, and he's grateful for it now, but this guy is bigger than him, and he  _clinks_ when he moves, the same way Kenway had clinked back on the ship. You need to be carrying a lot of weapons to clink like that.

"Jacob Frye," Elijah says, and the guy turns around to look at him. Khemu's surprised too. "Yea. We've been looking for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Head's up, the next chapter will probably be a little delayed. We're getting close to the end, and there's a lot of loose threads I want to make sure to tie up, so I need to take a few days and actually plan out the rest of the chapters. I'll try and get it done as soon as I can, but I wanted to just put it out there that there will be a delay.


	18. Chapter 18

Elijah isn't trying to be annoying, he really isn't, but he  _is_ a Sage and he  _does_ know some things about Jacob Frye that Jacob would obviously rather not have Elijah know. It's not even a big deal, but maybe Elijah's been around people that are used to him for too long now. Jacob keeps giving him looks that are halfway between annoyed and confused, and eventually Elijah decides to just stop talking and hope that Khemu will be able to pick up the slack.

He does, thankfully. This isn't the first time Khemu's had to smooth things over when Elijah knows too much. He's saved Elijah from being punched in the face more than once in grade school. Now, he suggests to Jacob that maybe it would be a good idea if they go somewhere more private to talk, and Jacob reluctantly agrees.

He takes them to his train. Elijah glances over at Khemu, and catches the excitement in his expression. He wonders if Khemu is still thinking about fighting on top of it.

Either way, it is actually pretty nice inside the train. Decorated in a kind of old fashioned style that would actually probably be kind of modern here and now. There are a few other people hanging around, most of them dressed in oddly matching colors (no—they're gang colors. They're called the Rooks—an Assassin gang? Weird). Only when they get to the front of the train do they find someone not wearing the gang's colors. She's a woman, dressed in the kind of complicated clothing Elijah is used to seeing on Assassins, and she studies them with one eyebrow raised as they come in. Considering the fact that the train is now starting to move, slow at first but then faster and faster, she looks remarkably balanced and composed.

Evie Frye. The last person they need to track down. Elijah lets out a long, low hiss of air as relief courses through him. So this is it. They're done. They know where everyone is now. Khemu glances sideways at him and mouths  _this is her_? Elijah nods back at him.

And then Evie stands up, holds out her hand, and says something that catches  _him_ by surprise. "You'll be Elijah Miles, then?" she asks.

"Y—what?" His hand goes cold in her grip, and he stares. Is this what other people feel like when they talk to him? "How do you know my name?"

Her expression is sharply interested. "It's a long story," she says as she lets go of his hand.

Behind them, Jacob groans. "Here we go," he says.

"What?" Khemu asks.

"She's going to pull something out of a book now," Jacob says. "And then she's going to talk for hours."

"Not hours, Jacob," Evie says. But she does turn to grab a book, which she opens to a page she's marked with a letter. At first Elijah assumes she's showing them something in the book, but then she hands over the letter instead. It's yellow and faded and clearly several decades old, addressed to her and Jacob in flowing handwriting.

"Can I…?"

"Go ahead," Evie says. "Open it up. It's about you anyway."

"Er—" Elijah doesn't open it. "The thing about me is—I don't know what's in here." Not yet, although he's sure he'll know soon, one way or the other. Either he'll open it up and read the letter like a normal person, or he'll just  _know_  all of a sudden. "But if it's just talking about someone that looks like me, and if it's anything bad—its probably not me."

"Your name's in it," Evie points out.

Oh, yea. Right. She'd called him by name. Elijah looks down at the letter, and unfolds it. The first thing that catches his attention is the signature at the bottom. Arno Dorian. Why is Arno writing to Evie? He wouldn't even know about her, right? He'd probably died before she was ever born.

(But they'd talked about her, hadn't they? A voice in his head whispers. They'd talked about all the people they have to recruit to fight Aita)

"He warned you about us," Elijah says, because it would have taken at least five minutes of awkwardly standing there and squinting at Arno's cursive handwriting to actually read the letter.

"No," Evie says. "Just about you." And as Elijah flushes red, she turns to look at Khemu, as if inviting him to explain himself. Khemu in turn looks at Elijah, and Khemu reads… almost a request for permission in his expression. He hesitates, then shakes his head. He's off balance in this conversation, and he doesn't want to give the Fryes more information than they already have.

"How did he get it to you?" he asks, folding the letter back up.

"He didn't," Evie says. "Not directly—he died several years before we were born."

"Did he?" Jacob asks.

"He did," Evie says. "I looked him up as soon as we got the letter."

"How wonderfully morbid of you," Jacob says. He sounds delighted.

Elijah decides he should probably start getting this conversation back on track. "Well whatever Arno wanted to warn you about," he says. "I'm not here to hurt you, or mess with whatever you're doing in London. I just need—"

"He didn't warn us that you'd do anything to hurt us," Evie says. "He warned us that you were going to come and try to convince us to go to the future with you, and fight someone from the first civilization." She frowns. "He said you're different, and that you're persuasive, and he says you're on the right side." This time, Evie raises her eyebrows, in a perfectly practiced expression of skepticism. It's good—Elijah is almost as tall as she is, but he feels half a foot shorter when she gives him that look. "Now, you might be on the right side, and you're probably even a time traveler, if you were there to meet Arno Dorian. And he described you too well for you to be anyone else."

Elijah shuts his mouth and doesn't point out that there have literally been hundreds and hundreds of people with the same face as him, going back tens of thousands of years.

"But I don't believe in this mission of yours," Evie says. "I don't think any of it's real and I think you should leave the city."

"We can't do that," Elijah says.

"Find someone else for your crusade," Evie says. "We have one of our own. Are you an Assassin?"

"I—no, but… my dad is." Evie doesn't seem impressed by this, so Elijah points at Khemu. "His dad is too."

"Kind of," Khemu says.

"Well… yea," Elijah allows. "Kind of."

"If you're not part of the Brotherhood, you wouldn't understand. This is important, and whatever you're here to try and get us to do… the answer is no."

The world seems to go into bullet time, and Elijah's breath hitches in his throat as a tsunami of  _knowing_ crashes into him, almost sending him to his knees as it threatens to overwhelm him. He doesn't let it, because he needs to  _use_ it.

"The answer," he says, forcing himself to stand straight and look her squarely in the eye. "Is yes, and I'm going to tell you why."

"I don't—"  _have time for this._

"Have time for this?" Elijah finishes. He can hear the shadow of what she's about to say, as clearly as if she'd actually had a chance to speak. "It's time travel. You'll be back the second you're gone." He doesn't want to freak her out, but  _in this moment_ , he needs her and he can see—he absolutely  _knows_ that she's not going to just be convinced.

 _"How do you expect me to believe that?"_  Evie asks. Or will ask. She hasn't had a chance to actually say it before Elijah answers.

"I can show you, if you want," he says. "Please. You don't have to make this difficult, but… we need you." He turns to look at Jacob. "Both of you. We're going to be fighting a guy that can take away  _everything_ from the people that get in his way. Isn't that exactly the kind of fight Assassins want to get involved with?" He nods at Jacob. "I know you want in on this fight."

"Well, yea," Jacob says. "It sounds awesome."

His sister shoots him a murderous look.

"Well it  _does_ ," Jacob mutters.

"Please, Evie," Elijah says. "I know you have all kinds of good reasons to think we're crazy, or  _I'm_ crazy anyway." No reason to include poor Khemu in that. "But this is real. I'm not lying to you, and we do really need you."

His knowing fades back to normal awareness, and Elijah closes his eyes for a long second, pulling himself together before opening them up again. At this point, he has no idea if Evie is going to say yes, but he's terrified that she won't. What is he supposed to do to persuade her? How is he supposed to convince this woman he's never even met before that she needs to take herself and her brother to come fight Aita in the future with him? It's honestly more surprising that everyone else has agreed than that she's being stubborn…

"No," Evie says.

Khemu makes a sad noise next to Elijah, who feels abruptly guilty for failing him. And then he feels very, very afraid. They  _need_ the Fryes, and they were so close to getting everyone they need…

Evie's still talking, maybe trying to let them down gently, but Elijah can't hear it anymore. There's an uncomfortable rushing in his ears, and the next thing he knows is Khemu nudging him in the side. Elijah turns to look at him, trying to focus, and that's when he hears the footsteps overhead.

It looks like Khemu's going to get the rooftop train fight he'd been hoping for.

-/-

Khemu's trying not to be cynical about it, but he can't help noticing that Evie has no problem with  _them_ helping  _her._ She and Jacob scramble up onto the roof through a hatch, and Khemu can hear more footsteps from farther down the train, climbing up from the other train cars. He moves to follow them, but Elijah is right on his heels and Khemu stops. "Stay here," he says.

"No—I can do something—I have to do  _something_ —"

Something is clicking into place inside of Khemu. The weird sort of distance that he's learned to put between himself and the rest of the world when he's about to fight for his life is coming down. "Stay here, Elijah," he says. "You can't fight."

"Khemu—"

He puts his hand on Elijah's shoulder, forcefully, and meets his gaze unflinchingly. "Elijah," he says. "Stay. Here."

Elijah looks like he very badly wants to argue, but maybe his common sense catches up to him or maybe he just  _knows_ that this would be a bad idea, because he doesn't argue. Satisfied that his friend is going to stay safe, Khemu turns his back and scrambles up onto the roof, into the fight.

It's mass chaos up there. Khemu widens his stance automatically to keep his balance on the swaying roof of the train, the same way he would on a ship, but obviously not everyone has thought to do that. There are maybe a dozen people out on the roof, weapons out, half in the gang colors Khemu is starting to vaguely associate with the Fryes, and half in contrasting colors.

Khemu heads for the closest one of these men, who is wobbling uncertainly on the edge of the train. He reaches back and pulls out his mother's knife, and in one smooth motion whips it around toward the wobbling brute. He doesn't even have a chance to connect—the train goes around a bend just as the man curses and takes a step back.

He falls so fast it's like he's just straight up vanishes, and Khemu wastes half a second wincing in horror at the sound he makes when he falls into the wheels. Then he turns, pivoting on one foot, and lunges forward at the next closest enemy.

As he falls into the rhythm of the fight, as he focuses in on the technique of stabbing before he can be stabbed, as he stops thinking about  _oh shit I might die_ , the whole thing does get… maybe fun is the wrong word, but it's close. Up here, with the train thundering through the city, Khemu feels like he's on top of the world, like he's flying as he counters and lunges with his blade. He can't help thinking that Kenway would have loved this, if there had been trains in his time.

When it's all over and the last enemy has fallen, Khemu is barely panting. He just stops, looking down at his blade to see how much blood he's going to need to clean up off it, and Jacob comes around and claps him enthusiastically on the back. "You can fight," he says.

Khemu stares down at his sword. Then he looks at Jacob. "Yea," he says. "I was a pirate for a while."

"Awesome," Jacob says.

"Shall we get back inside?" Evie asks, and since the other members of the Fryes' gang start to take care of the last remaining bodies and clean up the mess on the roof. Khemu… really doesn't want to do that, so he drops down into the train after them. Elijah is sitting on the couch on one side, looking vaguely embarrassed. Khemu sits down next to him, and he half wants to apologize. If Evie and Jacob hadn't bee there, he probably would have.

"It's fine," Elijah says quietly. "You did what you had to do."

Because of course Elijah knows what he wants-to-but-can't-say.

They're still looking at each other when Evie clears her throat, and both boys look up at her almost in unison. "Show me," she says.

Elijah stares for a second, then scrambles to his feet. "Really?" he says.

"It's only fair," Evie says. "Your friend helped us. So show me something like time travel is real, and…" She trails off. Khemu has no idea what she was going to say, but Elijah's still grinning, so he assumes it would have been something good.

Khemu watches with some interest as Elijah and Evie negotiate when and where and what feels like a bunch of other unnecessary details. After a few seconds, Jacob plops down next to him. "So what about you?" Khemu asks. "Do you need extra convincing?"

"Me?" Jacob says. "Not really. Evie's the one that overthinks everything—I just want to see what's going to happen."

"Big old fight with a guy that should have died sixty thousand years ago and looks like my best friend," Khemu says.

"Sounds fun."

"That's one way of putting it."

They both watch as Elijah shows Evie the apple and then, with no warning, disappear. Khemu's seen his dad do this about half a million times in the past few years, so he doesn't even bat an eyelid. Jacob, on the other hand, looks impressed.

"That is…" He looks at the empty space where his sister and Elijah had just been standing, then turns to look at Khemu. "Did you see that?"

"I'm used to it," Khemu says. "My dad… he does this all the time. Now I guess I do it all the time."

Jacob's expression says he's not quite sure how Khemu isn't  _freaking out_ about this, but it's not anything new to him and he's too tired to do anything or say anything. He just watches as Jacob gets up to investigate the space where the other two had been.

Khemu sees the faint spark of light before Jacob notices it—not that he'd know what he was looking for anyway. "You might want to step back," he says, then cracks a grin when Jacob isn't quite fast enough. When Elijah and Evie reappear, Jacob is standing practically right on top of them, and his arms almost pinwheel as he quickly steps back.

He's still falling backward when Khemu switches his attention to Evie. Her face is ever so slightly pale, and she's breathing just a little bit too quickly, but for the most part she looks composed, considering she's just time traveled for the first time.

"Okay," she says. "So you're not a liar."

"No," Elijah says.

"What did you see?" Jacob asks.

"The future," Evie says. "Just for a minute, but—enough."

"So we're helping?" Jacob asks.

Evie looks at him, and nods. "We're helping," she says.

Khemu lets out a huge sigh of relief, and almost laughs out loud. That's it. That's the last two people they need. They can finally go home, and take the fight to Aita.  _It's almost over, at last_.

-/-

Berg has been trapped in the Temple for going on three weeks now, while Aita puts his plans into motion. Aita had been distracted, just briefly, and Berg had been able to slip away, deeper into the Temple. He's not sure why Aita hasn't come after him yet, because he  _must_ know where he is. Elijah would have known exactly where to look for him and Aita, terrifyingly enough, seems to know more than Elijah ever has. But he's either putting up with Berg's skulking around, or for some reason he doesn't know exactly where he is. Berg has no idea which one it is, but he's not taking any chances. He sticks to the shadows, feeling embarrassingly like an Assassin. But if acting like an Assassin will keep him alive, he'll act like an Assassin.

He hides, and watches, and waits.

Aita is recruiting fighters, and Berg isn't sure exactly where he's getting all of them. They're coming too quickly and from too may diverse places to just be people Aita is randomly running into and dragging back here. After a few days of nothing to do but sit around and speculate, Berg eventually decides that his best guess for who they are is the instruments of the first will. He remembers them as Juno's people, from before he came back in time, so he doesn't know for sure what they've been up to or even if they exist in this timeline. But he remembers specifically that they'd been humans trying to restore the isu to a place of superiority  _over_ humans, and anyone that's crazy enough to do that would be crazy enough to fit in with Aita, too.

Actually, they might even be crazier than Aita is. More than once during the days that follow, as Berg creeps around trying to learn their plans, he  _definitely_ sees the ancient precursor giving his army skeptical looks. Like even he can't believe how nuts they are.

Berg happens to agree with him, but he's not in a position to share that observation. The second he shows his face, he's sure that he's going to be forcibly recruited like these people here, frozen like the rest of the Hidden Ones, or flat out killed. None of those options appeals to him, so Berg stays hidden. And he watches.

He has no idea when or where he's going to get his chance to move, and until that happens, there's  _nothing_  at all that he can do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up on the end, guys. There's four chapters left, and endings are my weakest point so... cross your fingers and pray for me xD 


	19. Chapter 19

Elijah stays on the train with the Fryes, while Khemu heads back to the hotel to meet up with the other three. They're all there, all in the middle of what sounds like a very anxious conversation about—oh. About where he and Elijah have wandered off to. Khemu winces, and very quickly opens the door.

"Everything's fine," he says, before anyone can get a word in. "I'm fine, Elijah's fine, and we got the Fryes on our side."

The expressions of worried disbelief on everyone's faces morph instantly (or, in his mother's case, after a slight delay for translation) into relief. All three of them are there, along with Senu—even she's looking at him like  _about time you came back_.

"So that's it," Elina says, almost bouncing. "That's it, we got everyone, we can go home and get everything  _fixed_."

"Yea," Khemu says. "That's what he wanted me to come back and talk to you guys about. He's going to have to collect everyone that's already agreed to help us, and he wants to do it on the Fryes train—"

"You got to be on the train after all?" Elina interrupts.

"I got to fight on top of it," Khemu says, instantly getting distracted. "It was great."

"Yea?"

"Yea."

She gives him a thumbs up.

"Grab your stuff," Layla says, interrupting Elina with a pat on the shoulder as she walks past. "I don't think we'll be coming back to the hotel."

Khemu joins Elina in scrambling around the hotel room and gathering up everything they've left there over the past couple days. "Elijah doesn't want to do any of his trips back to the past by himself. He told me he was scared of getting stuck somewhere and forgetting who he is again."

"I would be too," Layla says. "We'll make sure he has someone with him. We can do shifts or something." She stretches out her shoulder with a little pop, then lets her arms swing back down to her side. "You got everything?"

"Yep," Elina says, hoisting a bag over her shoulder. It's not like they have much, anyway. Just odds and ends, and some leftover pastries from breakfast.

She's excited as they head back, almost bouncing. "It's almost over," she says, not for the first time. "I can't  _believe_ it."

Khemu can't help being a little bit more skeptical—everyone else is so, so happy, but… he's just not. He can't help thinking about how they still don't have any idea how to beat Aita, and some of them could seriously die, and why do they even need all these people they've spent all this time trying to recruit anyway?

"Oh come  _on_ ," Elina says, grabbing at his hands as he lags, and pulling him along after her. "Don't be so down, Khemu. Everything's going to be okay."

Only it isn't, or if it is then he's going to be very surprised. So far, they've been able to slowly work their way through everything they need to do. Aita either doesn't know or care—he hasn't done anything to try and stop them, at least. That's all going to change now that they're going home.

But he lets Elina pull him along, only bothering to resist when he needs to steer her in a new direction, to get her back to the train where Elijah and the Fryes are waiting. It takes them longer to get back than it had taken Khemu to get to the hotel alone. When they get there, Elijah and Evie are deep in conversation, apparently planning out how they're going to handle getting everyone grouped together.

It's a little crowded when all six of them—the four time travels, Jacob, and Evie—are together in the train car. Khemu sits down with his mother and Elina on the slightly too small bed, while Elijah sits with Evie on the couch, and Jacob leans against the wall with his arms crossed. Layla, after looking pointedly around to show that there's no room, sort of wedges herself into a corner. Senu lands on her shoulder.

"So we sort of have a plan," Elijah announces, when everyone is as settled as they can be in the tight space. "It's not going to be quick, but I'd have to individually go to every single time period anyway, so it was never going to be all that fast." He takes a deep breath. "We're going to gather everyone here. I mean… not  _here_ , because obviously we can barely fit six people in here." He gestures generally to the train car. "But we're going to gather everyone in this century."

"There's a place Jacob likes to go for his fight clubs," Evie says.

"You like it too," Jacob says, and Evie sighs in obvious exaggeration.

"That isn't the point," she says, as Khemu grins. Listening to their bickering makes him think of how he and Elijah and Elina are, normally, when they're safe at home and nothing is going wrong. Then Evie looks back at the rest of them, and Khemu fights to keep his smile off his face so he won't offend her. "The  _point_ is that there is a large, hidden space used for underground fight clubs, which should have more than enough space for us to gather everyone."

"Train's coming up on it soon," Jacob adds.

"There's a station near here?" Elina asks, and Jacob flashes her a cheeky grin.

"No," he says.

It takes a second for it to sink in for her that oh, he's talking about just jumping off the train, but then Khemu sees her eyes go wide.  _"Oh_ ," she says. She grins back at him, and Khemu recognizes his own excitement from when he'd found out he was actually going to get to fight on top of a train. "Cool."

"So we're going there," Elijah says. "And then I'll start going to the different people we've had agree to help us." He holds up a finger for every time period he mentions. "Altair in the Crusades, Ezio in the Renaissance, Edward in the Golden Age of Piracy, Haytham, Shay, and Connor in the American Revolution, and Arno in the French Revolution. So that's five trips, bare minimum, assuming nothing goes wrong."

"That works out cleanly then," Evie says. "We'll each only have to go with you once."

"There's six of us," Jacob says. "So someone won't have to go, right?"

There's a short pause.

Jacob makes a face. "Okay," he says. "I guess I'll stay here and hold down the fort. Train. Train-fort."

Khemu volunteers immediately to go with him to get Edward. He's not sure if Edward would go with anyone else, but he likes to think that maybe it would at least be a little bit easier if he's the one to go with Elijah and pick him up.

"I want to go get Ezio," Elina says. "He was nice."

Khemu catches the slightly jealous look Evie shoots in Elina's direction, but doesn't think anyone else does. Well, Ezio is a pretty famous (or, depending how you look at it, infamous) Assassin. Makes sense that it would be enough to make someone like Evie jealous.

"I can go to America," Layla says, which is probably a good idea. If Evie's getting jealous of Elina knowing Ezio, a famous Assassin, she's probably not going to like heading to colonial America to recruit a couple of Templars.

 _"Do you want to go with Elijah to get Altair or Arno, Mom?"_ Khemu asks.

He can't help looking at her sideways, to make sure… well, just to make sure she's okay with  _Mom_. She gives him the  _exact_ same uncertain look, but says,  _"I don't mind going with Elijah to make sure he stays sane, but I'm not going to be able to talk to either of them anyway. I'll go to whichever place I'm needed."_

 _"Maybe Arno?"_ Layla suggests.  _"Let Evie meet Altair, she'll be over the moon."_

Khemu bites back a laugh.

"What's so funny?" Elina asks, and Khemu shakes his head. "Nothing," he says. "It's nothing." He doesn't think Evie will appreciate hearing what they think of her. "Let's just get started, right?"

So they do. They don't have any particular order they go in, although Evie not-so-subtly campaigns for being allowed to go first. She's noticeably excited when she gets back, and since she doesn't have any more time travelling to do, she sets herself up on the couch where she can sit and watch, while Jacob starts up a stream of gentle ribbing over her obvious enthusiasm.

The next few trips go fairly quickly, although Elijah looks more and more tired every time he makes it back. Even if time travel makes it seem like he's only been away for a few seconds, Khemu knows that from his point of view, Elijah is finding each new person, catching them up on what's going on, convincing them to come back, and bringing them to the train.

By this point, the only person they have left to get is Kenway, but as Khemu heads over to Elijah, he's not feeling so sure that this is a good idea. "You sure you're going to be okay?" he asks.

"Just one more trip," Elijah says. But he puts the apple down on a nearby table and rubs at his face. It makes him almost look like a child, and Khemu feels an unexpected surge of pity for his best friend.

"Don't," Elijah mutters.

"What?"

"Don't feel  _bad_ for me," Elijah says. "It just makes it worse."

But it's hard to just stop feeling bad for him. Elijah's always been kind of a shrimp, and younger than him on top of that. But now, thanks to all the time travel, because Khemu had spent months on the  _Jackdaw_  while Elijah had only spent days on the Homestead.

" _Don't_ ," Elijah says again. "Feel  _bad_ for me." He's shaking very slightly, a sort of full body tremble, with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "It's almost done, right? When everyone's here… then I can rest for a little while."

Khemu is trying to figure out how much older he is than Elijah now. A year and a half? Two years?

"Khemu…"

It kind of sucks to suddenly be so much older than his best friend, but if it had to have happened, then… he's glad that at least he's the one that grew up faster. At least this way, he can help look after Elijah.

"Okay," he says. "Okay, let's go get this over with then."

Elijah reaches for the apple, and Khemu reaches for Elijah, and he holds onto him  _tight_ as they pass through the nowhere space between the nineteenth century and the eighteenth. When Khemu feels solid ground under his feet again, he doesn't let go of his friend's shoulder right away.

"Are you okay?"

"I…" Elijah's face is creased in pain. "Yea, I'm fine. It's just harder to remember how to be me when I time travel a lot, apparently."

"You have to be you," Khemu says firmly, as if just saying it can make it true. "You're not allowed to be anyone else."

"Yea, well, I'm trying," Elijah mutters. He's rubbing at his face again.

"Sorry," Khemu says. "I know it isn't easy."

"But we're so  _close_ ," Elijah says. "I just want to hurry up and rescue my dad and get home again. I want to sleep in my own bed and go back to school and pretend I'm normal again."

Khemu can't help laughing, even with the situation the way it is. "You?" he says. " _Normal_?"

Elijah doesn't laugh, and the sound of his silence makes Khemu stop. This is Elijah as close to his breaking point as Khemu has ever seen him. Even  _counting_ the time he helped kill Juno. "Normal for me," he says. "I know I'm always going to be weird but I  _like_ my life. I want to go back to it."

Khemu, after careful consideration, leans forward, and hugs him. Elijah sort of shudders in his arms, almost vibrating into pieces, and Khemu is very, very afraid. "Elijah," he says quietly. "I know this is hard. But you said yourself that this is almost over, and we need you. If you're not here, and at the top of your game, calling the shots, then we fall apart."

Elijah's answer is not entirely verbal, more of a mumble than anything. Khemu thinks that it sounds a little bit like  _why me_.

"Because you're a Sage," Khemu says. "Our Sage. And I know that doesn't mean that you know everything, but like it or not that means that when stuff like this happens, you're the kind of person that we're all going to look at to figure out what's going on."

"But Khemu…"

"I know," Khemu says. "I  _know_." He sighs. "Listen. You understand why you need to be here? At the top of your game?"

"Yes," Elijah says quietly. "I just don't know if… I can do that right this second."

"You—"

"Khemu?"

He hasn't been paying attention to anything going on around them, not even to where they are. Now that he looks around, he's surprised to find that they're in the middle of a rainy city instead of somewhere on a ship. He almost wonders if they're in the wrong place, but then he turns around and sees Kenway there, holding the hand of a little boy. Kenway looks a good few years older than the last time Khemu had seen him, but when he grins, it makes his whole face look younger. Khemu forces a smile of his own onto his face.

"Thought that was you," Kenway says, coming forward to shake Khemu's hand, still holding the boy tightly in his other hand. "You don't look any older than the last time I saw you."

"I'm not," Khemu says. "After I left the  _Jackdaw_ , I went…" He hesitates before glossing over all the time travel. It tends to distract people. "A couple different places. But it's only been a few weeks."

"Oh." He looks impressed. "So I guess—that's good."

"Yea." They're just standing there, in the rain, with the little boy starting to squirm. Khemu wonders if it's Haytham—he knows they're related. "Listen, can we go somewhere out of the rain and talk?"

-/-

Elijah is supremely grateful for the way Khemu takes over with Edward. He's had to explain what's going on often enough already over the last… what is it, a few days? It takes at least a few hours, usually closer to twelve, every time he has to go back and get someone else, and this is the fifth trip, so… yea, it must have been a couple of days at least by now. It's the first time in the last few  _days_ that he's had a chance to really just sit and listen.

He could have taken them back to any point in Edward's life, any point after Khemu convinced him to help anyway, but he'd picked a point a little later on. He doesn't know Edward Kenway personally, but he  _knows_ Edward Kenway, and he  _knows_ that he's going to be calmer and more able to handle this later.

The fact that Elijah's pretty sure he'd hurl if he had to be on a boat right now, and Edward

had retired from pirating to live on dry, solid land probably has nothing to do with it.

Khemu has it under control, so Elijah zones out for a while. His head is pounding, and he's not sure if it's because he's been awake for so long, or because he's been time traveling too much and he's in danger of forgetting he's not Aita again. He can't even  _tell_ , which isn't making him feel super happy about how well the rest of the plan is going to work out.

 _Plan_. Ha. He has no idea what he's going.

He feels Khemu's hand on his shoulder, and starts. "Hey," his best friend says quietly. "Edward's going to come back with us, but he's letting us crash here for the night."

Had he agreed to that? Elijah glances sideways over Khemu's shoulder and sees Edward… alone. Yea, Edward the pirate captain, with no more friends left standing around him, and then suddenly there's this face from the past, still marked with the same sunburn he'd gotten in a past that's  _unreachable_ for Edward now. Of course he'd agreed.

Doesn't mean it's a good idea. "No," Elijah says. "We have to go—"

"It's time travel," Khemu says flatly. "The future will still be there in the morning."

In his half exhausted state, this strikes Elijah as oddly poignant. He gives in. "Fine," he says. "Okay, sure, let's… yea, fine."

So he lets Khemu push him upstairs into bed, where Elijah falls asleep immediately and has confused dreams all night long.

And then he wakes up in the morning, feels much better, and immediately realizes Khemu was right to force him to get some sleep. He should have done it a couple of time travels back, honestly, but… at least it's done now.

Elijah sits up in the unfamiliar bed, propping himself up on one elbow, and rubbing at his face with the other hand as he looks blearily around for Khemu. He finds him after a second or two, asleep on the floor nearby. Elijah steps over him, hoping he can at least let Khemu sleep a little bit longer, and goes to find out what the eighteenth century equivalent of a bathroom is, and how much he's going to hate it.

He runs into Edward when he's on his way back to the bedroom, and kind of backs awkwardly up against the wall, not sure what to say. He knows Edward is helping them for Khemu and not for any other reason, and he knows that Edward had once lost people he cared about because of another Sage. Elijah isn't expecting to exactly be welcomed by him.

"So," Edward says. "This time travel thing. It's really—it won't seem all that long to anyone here?"

"A couple hours maybe," Elijah says. "Probably less."

"Good," Edward says. His eyes stray away from him. "I have a family waiting for me here."

Elijah gives him a tiny smile. "As soon as Khemu's up, we'll go," he says. "We'll be back before noon."

"You guys are waiting for me?" asks another voice.

Khemu. Of course. Elijah turns to face him and shakes his head. "I didn't want to wake you up," he says.

"It's fine," Khemu says, waving a vaguely dismissive hand. "Can we go?"

"Yea," Elijah says. He's feeling good, energized and just  _ready_  (almost, probably, maybe) for whatever's going to happen next. "I mean, comb your hair first, but I'm ready whenever you are."

Khemu snorts out a little laugh, and runs his hands through his hair. "Good enough?" he asks.

"Eh," Elijah says. It's still mostly sticking out in random directions, but Khemu doesn't seem fussed and honestly, neither is Elijah. "Good enough."

There's a brief, awkward pause, where it feels like Khemu is trying to probe at him with his eyes, like he's trying to eyestab him into telling the truth. Elijah looks down at the apple to avoid his gaze—and snatches them out of time.

They're all there waiting for him when they get back, just sitting where they'd been yesterday, when they left them here about five seconds ago. They're all quiet, which surprises Elijah a little because every other time he's come back, people have been walking around, meeting each other, talking. Now… well, they must know this is the last person they need to get. Elijah keeps half an eye on Haytham, to check and see if he wants to make a big deal out of seeing his father here, but he shouldn't have worried. If anyone here is the least likely to make a big deal out of something, it would have to be Haytham.

And then abruptly, Elijah realizes they're all looking at him. Just like Khemu had said—they're waiting for  _him_. They're waiting for him to tell them what to do, so that they'll know where theyre going and how this is all going to make sense in the end. Because he's the Sage, and somehow that makes him…

It makes him not ready for this. He doesn't even know what to say, and he keeps flashing back to that time in middle school when he had to give a report in front of the class about whales but he completely choked and it was honestly probably the worst experience he had in the whole of seventh grade.

This is a little bit more important than whales.

"So I know you guys all have the short version of what we need to do," he says. "We're going to go into the future and fight a precursor, or an isu, or one of those that came before, whatever name you know them by. He's in the future, and he's started hurting the people we care about, but he's going to move onto other people, and he's…" Elijah is quiet, trying to figure out how exactly to explain what he instinctively knows. That Aita is an isu, and intrinsically  _dangerous._ The only thing stopping any given isu from being a danger to humans is whether or not they  _choose_ to be a danger. Aita, pretty obviously, has chosen to be dangerous.

"He needs to be stopped," Elijah finishes. "And I just want you all to know that I really appreciate what you're doing. Our time isn't your time and our fight isn't your fight, so  _thank you_ for being here." He takes a deep breath. "I don't know yet what we're going to see when we get there." Is that too much? Is he basically just admitting to everyone that he's  _totally_ clueless? Elijah peeks around at the assembled group of some of history's greatest Assassins and Templars. No one's looking at him with the kind of skeptical dismissal Elijah had expected, so he keeps going, voice cracking just a little as he forces himself through to the end. "Whatever it is we'll have to do when we get there—we'll know soon. And we'll face it, whatever it is." He grips the apple and starts to slowly draw out its power. This is more people than he's ever moved through time together before.

"So… let's do this."

-/-

Berg has lost track of the amount of time he's spent hiding in the Temple by the time anything changes. Many days. Weeks, in fact. He's gotten good at it, even if it's starting to really chafe at him. He wonders sometimes if Aita  _does_ still remember he's here, and is just choosing to let him stew in his own misery.

There's still only one way out. And there's still no way to get through it without being caught. Berg struggles with hopelessness sometimes, with the fear that he's just never getting out of here. And then—like a miracle—there comes a day when that changes. There's the faintest of disturbances in the air in front of him and Berg is on his feet, ready to face the new threat before it can materialize.

And then it does, and it's not a threat. It's his daughter, and—well, his daughter and a surprising crowd of people around her, but Berg doesn't have eyes for them right now.

"Dad!"

" _Elina_."

She runs into his arms, and Berg holds her until she starts to squirm. "Dad," she whispers. "You're embarrassing me in front of everyone."

Everyone, yes. Right. Berg steps back and stands up, looking around for the first time. He's not overly surprised to see Khemu and Elijah with her, but the rest of the crowd… well. "Care to explain?" he asks.

Elijah's the one that steps forward. "It's kind of a long story," he says.

Berg thinks he looks different than he had the last time he'd had to see the boy. Not in a way that he can put his finger on, just… different. "I have time," he says. "I have nothing but time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe they're finally back in the future. Present? It's all relative.


	20. Chapter 20

"We can't stay here," Berg says, after he's finally had the whole story explained to him. It takes a while—it's quite a story. "When it was just me, I could do it for as long as it took. But there's just too many people here for all of us to hide." As it is, they're crowded into a hidden alcove, off to one side and a story and a half above the main level. "It's a miracle we haven't been found already."

"So then we need a distraction," Elina says, and she says it so calmly that Berg can't help giving her a slightly suspicious look. He has the impression that some of what the children in particular did in the past had been… glossed over in the story he was told. He's going to have to sit down with Elina when all this is over, and figure out what exactly she'd had to do. "I think we probably have enough Assassins here to manage that."

Well, at least she hadn't suggested she should be the distraction. For some reason he can't quite put his finger on, Berg had expected she would. She's just different from the person she had been before.

There's an almost constant murmur of side conversations, as people translate for each other, share new ideas, compare information—Berg isn't surprised to see that several of the Assassins are as close to the main level as they can get without being fully in sight. Berg can easily imagine what they're doing. The same thing he's spent weeks doing himself, watching, looking for patterns, seeing what Aita and his soldiers (for lack of a better word) do when they're here.

"I can probably—I can come up with a plan," Berg says. After all he's seen, he's sure he has more information than anyone else here would.

"Don't tell me," Elina says. "Tell Elijah."

Berg looks up from her face, over her head, to where Elijah happens to be standing behind her right at that moment. He doesn't know how he feels, having this child he's known since he was a little boy, all of a sudden put in charge. Especially given the more impressive options available here.

But a quiet part of his mind is whispering that he's not  _just_ a little boy. And not even so little anymore, really. He's a teenager that's somehow convinced some of history's greatest Assassins ( _and Templars_ ) to come here with him and fight this creature and his army. "Okay," he says then. "Elijah, come here. Let me tell you what you need to know."

-/-

Amunet and Khemu are the ones that are eventually chosen as the distraction. Amunet isn't entirely sure why it should be them, out of all of them, but she's certainly not going to complain. It's a way for her to be helpful, and she no longer has any doubt that even Khemu—with his relative inexperience—will be able to survive this encounter.

Besides, as they come closer, Amunet can see that they're not facing people that actually know how to fight. Their stances, the bored, casual way they scan their environment, it all shows how inexperienced they are at this. From what she's heard, second hand, through Layla and Khemu translating for her, Amunet doesn't think these people are strong fighters. They're obviously not here of their own free will, they're here because Aita has decided they need to be here. It doesn't seem like he's gone out of his way to pick fighters, which is to their advantage.

"We don't need to kill them," Khemu says, which doesn't surprise Amunet. She knows that Khemu enjoys fighting, and that he can kill when he has to, but he clearly enjoys the first part more than the second. Not that there's anything wrong with that. In a perfect world, he wouldn't have to fight at all.

Amunet answers by taking a throwing knife from her belt and throwing it. Not at the nearest man, but off into a corner where no one can see it without weirdly good vision or eagle vision. Sure enough, the three guards closest to the cave's exit hear it, see nothing, and go off to investigate. Amunet slips after them, Khemu hot on her heels, and she knocks the closer one unconscious. Khemu struggles a little bit with the other man, and Amunet makes a note to show Khemu how to knock a man unconscious without making a noise. There's still so much he doesn't know. So much he wouldn't have learned from pirates.

But the man does go down, and Amunet puts a hand on Khemu's shoulder as they take up a guarding position, to make sure no one else will come to investigate.

They do, of course. It would be too easy if they hadn't. More than once, as the rest of the group makes their quiet way out of the cave, crossing the wide open space in front of the exit, in full view of anyone that might care to look, Amunet and Khemu have to dash off to distract a curious guard or two. Finally, when they're the last two Hidden Ones left, Amunet catches Khemu's eye. "Go," she whispers to him.

"What about you?" he whispers back.

"I'll follow," she tells him. She has no intention of staying behind in Aita's little slave kingdom.

"But—"

She tsks at him and gives him a little push. "Go, Khemu."

He goes, reluctantly, and Amunet watches him go. She has no intention of staying behind in Aita's little slave kingdom, true, but she's going to make sure Khemu gets out first. It's not until he's well and truly out of sight that Amunet makes the dash to the entrance. There's no cover and no one left to watch her back, and she'll admit—if only to herself—that it's a terrifying escape. She's less than graceful as she runs, as quickly and quietly as she possibly can, and on the other side she makes a beeline to the nearest trees for cover.

It's dark out here, and quiet. Amunet is just thinking about this when Elijah says from somewhere nearby, "It's almost dawn."

"How can you tell?" She doesn't know this place or these stars, and Elijah doesn't seem to be looking up at them anyway. His gaze is steady, looking ahead of them. Amunet's gaze finds his small form in the shadows, a little way apart from the crowd of time travelers behind him.

"I just  _know_ ," he says. Amunet shakes her head by way of answer. She hasn't spoken with Elijah much. He speaks Egyptian—speaks it better than Khemu, even, without the lingering traces of childishness that make it so obvious Khemu has been speaking English for years now—but he usually chooses not to. Still, she's noticed that there's a way he says that he  _knows_ things that seems too certain to just be conjecture.

"Do you  _know_ where we're going now?" she asks.

He meets her gaze. Almost. He  _almost_ meets her gaze—he's looking at her right ear, and turning very slightly red. "No," he admits. "I… No. Aita's just… I don't understand what he's doing or  _why_."

Amunet considers him for a long moment. She's not sure if anyone other than is going to be able to figure this out other than Elijah, but there is something that's been bothering her for a little while. "You thought you were Aita when we were with Connor."

He flushes more. "I know," he says. "I didn't do it on purpose."

"That's not my point," she says. "My point is that you did not act then the way he is acting now. What was the difference?"

Elijah stares at her.

"You haven't wondered?" she asks.

"I've been trying not to think about it," Elijah admits. "It was… really, really scary."

"But it could also be helpful," she says. "So what was the difference?"

And to his credit, despite his obvious reluctance, Elijah steps back and thinks it over. She waits as he chews on his lip and stares at his feet, and eventually he gives her an answer. "I had a purpose," he says. "No, I mean—he did. Does. He came here to test  _humans_ , and find out what we're like."

"Why?" Amunet presses.

"I dunno," he says. "Politics. Complicated stuff. But the point is… when I w… when I thought I was Aita, I met Connor right away. He went out of his way to help me, and he brought me home with him, and when you all showed up it was… I—he didn't understand why. But nobody even wanted to hurt me. Aita came here, and the Templars kidnapped him, and drugged him, and then…" Hesitation, then hints of shame. "My dad and Elina's dad tried to take him again, no one did anything  _but_ hurt him." He looks lost in thought again, then lowers his voice and says, "Then he spent a lot of time with Elina's dad, and I know he's her dad but he… I think he really could scare anyone off humanity."

She cracks a smile at that, but then turns serious. "Did that help you at all?"

He's still trying to think of an answer when Amunet leaves him to go find Khemu. It looks like she's given him something to think about.

-/-

They walk until morning, then right through dawn. Elina's not sure where exactly they're going, but her dad's taken over to take them to a safehouse, and that's fine with her. She's not surprised when he finds them a place close by that has enough room for the whole group.

What she does mind is when he plugs in his phone, brings up a airline website, and asks her very seriously where she wants to go.

"Nowhere," Elina says. "I'm staying here, Dad."

"Out of the question," he says. "You're a child, and you have no idea what Aita is capable of."

"I know he's capable of killing you and all my friends," Elina says. "And I know that I can do at least some good."

He doesn't answer that, just raises his eyebrows and holds his phone back out to her pointedly. Elina digs her heels in and shakes her head.

"Dad," she says.

" _Elina_ ," he answers, before she manages more than that single word. "What can you possibly do?"

"I can do plenty," she says, trying to hide that it hurts that he'd even asked. Amunet hadn't asked  _what can you possibly do_. Layla hadn't told her to run away when it looked like something bad was about to happen. They'd just showed her how to run, and climb, and…  _be_ , in a way that Elina has never imagined before.

For weeks now, since  _Florence_ , way back when they'd gone to recruit Ezio, Elina's dreams have been filled with flight. In her dreams, she dashes over rooftops as easily as the Hidden Ones that are teaching her. But it's only now, when her dad is unknowingly taking it all away, when Elina actually realizes how much she wants this.

Layla speaks up then, while Elina is still mentally stuck on the realization that what she wants more than anything else in the world is to be one of the Hidden Ones. "Stop bothering her," she says, cutting off a conversation with Jacob to look at them. "She's capable, and she can learn, and she's willing to help. Why hold her back?"

"Not that it's any of your business," Elina's father says. "But she could be hurt."

Everyone else in the room—everyone that can speak enough English to follow the conversation, anyway—is looking at the three of them by now. She can feel her face starting to burn, and when Khemu looks at her with a sympathetic expression, it does  _not_  help.

"I'm staying," she says, with the eyes of half a dozen famous Assassins on her. "And you can either spend your time arguing with me, or you can get ready to fight Aita. That's it." And then she ducks her head, and kind of shrugs her shoulder up but doesn't bring them back down again. She doesn't like having everyone staring at her, and it's a huge relief when conversation starts up again.

And her dad doesn't argue the point any further.

In the aftermath, Khemu finds her. "So you're not nervous?" she asks. "Not at all?"

"If I stopped to think about it," Elina says. "I probably would be." They're both pressed against a corner now, huddled together while all the adults—and Elijah, caught up in the middle of it all—make plans to get weapons, and fight through all of Aita's converts, and get to Aita himself. Elijah is there for what he  _knows_ , and he's been living with his precursor sixth sense for his entire life. She and Khemu are novices, or not even that maybe. They're definitely  _new_ to this.

"I'm thinking about it," Khemu says solemnly. "A lot."

"So you are scared?"

" _Nervous_ ," Khemu says. "Just nervous."

"Sure," Elina says. "Just nervous." She gives him a long look—she's fighting to be here, standing up to her dad just to have a chance to be allowed to help. Maybe that's why she can't afford to let herself be scared. Or nervous. "It's too important," she says out loud. "Right? When you stop and think about it, it's like… Aita's an isu and look at the stuff they  _make_. The apples and whatever, they're powerful, and they're dangerous, and who knows what else Aita is going to do if he stays here too long? Khemu, I want him gone. How about you?"

"Well…" his smile is a little sheepish. "How awful is it that I haven't really thought about it?"

"Khemu!"

"I mean… I haven't. I want my dad back but I haven't really thought about what kind of person Aita is, or what he might do next."

"Think about it now," Elina says, and to his credit, Khemu does exactly that. He sits for several minutes in silence, thinking it over, and Elina sits in silence too. She doesn't want to push him, and after a while he answers on his own.

"I think it would probably be better if we helped get rid of Aita," he agrees.

-/-

Elijah goes off on his own as soon as he can, because he knows what he wants to do next, and he knows it's a very stupid idea. He knows that if he messes it up, he's probably going to ruin everything for everyone, but if he doesn't then he's probably going to get somebody killed and it might just be—

He finds a quiet corner, out of the way, where he  _knows_ no one else will have a reason to wander into for hours. Then he closes his eyes and tries to find the place in his mind where Aita lives. The place he'd tapped into when he first met Connor, and thought he  _was_ Aita. Only he didn't want to go through all that again, he just wanted to talk, sort of. That was the wrong way to think about it. He just needed to… understand him. Nobody else did. They didn't understand Aita, or the isu, or what they were doing here. If Elijah didn't figure it out, and really get to know Aita sort of from the inside out, no one ever would.

And he had a nasty feeling that meant people he loved were going to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time guys, because... honestly I started playing Odyssey and I can't decide between the two main characters so I'm switching back and forth between both and it's very time consuming.


	21. Chapter 21

"—lijah.  _Elijah!_ "

He almost doesn't recognize his name, and it's not until something sharp hits him across the face that his eyes fly open and he remembers where and when and who he is. It had worked, mostly. His plan to learn what they need to know about Aita by almost but not  _quite_ allowing himself to become him.

"…Khemu?" he says, mumbling the name as his brain struggles to catch up.

"Yea." His best friend leans over and helps Elijah to his feet. It's a steady motion, grounding him in the here and now, and Elijah is grateful for it. He knows what they need to do now. He just needs to figure out  _how_ exactly to do it. "Elijah, we've been looking for you."

"I've been here," Elijah says. He rubs at his face.  _Wake up wake up wake up_. He's still a step or two behind and he can feel his brain churning as he tries to catch up. "Why's everyone looking for me?"

"Because they're coming," Elina says. "Aita's people, or his army or whatever you want to call it—they're coming and everyone else went out to meet them.

"They're going to fight," Khemu says, and Elijah actually feels his heartrate surge up.

"No," he says. "No, no, no, no, no—"

"What's the matter?"

Elijah scrambles to his feet. "They can't fight," he says.

"I hate to break it to you," Elina says skeptically. "But…"

"They're going to ruin everything," Elijah says.

"What are we supposed to do then?" Khemu asks. The three of them are all rushing out of the house now, Elijah in the lead because he knows how  _bad_ this is. He doesn't know where they're going, though. His sixth sense isn't kicking in the way it usually does—too wrapped up with what he's just figured out—and he's feeling totally lost.

Which is why he has his friends. They don't know what's going on, because he's a horrible friend and he hasn't explained yet, but they're still helping him follow the people that have already left.

"It's going to take a little while to catch up to them," Khemu says. "They wanted to take the fight away from other people so I think they were headed out of town."

At least he'd have time to explain. "We're not going to win in a fight," he says.

"You think we're not?" Khemu asks. "Or you  _know—_ "

"I  _know_ ," Elijah says. "Because even if we win the fight today, that's only going to make the isu more determined to wipe us out."

"What?"

"They sent Aita is a kind of… advance scout, I guess?" Elijah says. "Humans were just starting to think for themselves, and the isu weren't sure about that. They sent Aita here—he volunteered, technically, but he's here to find out if we… deserve to get here, if that makes sense."

There's a moment of silence, and then Khemu says, "So you're saying that if the isu decide we don't deserve to… think for ourselves…?"

"They'll probably just wipe us out like seventy thousand years in the past and none of human history will ever happen," Elijah finishes.

Elina curses with more creativity than Elijah would have given her credit for. "What do we  _do_ then?" she asks. "If we're not supposed to fight him, what are we going to—"

"I'm going to talk to him," Elijah says.

"What are you going to say?" Khemu demands.

Elijah takes a deep breath. "I… have an idea," he says.

"Is it going to work?" Khemu asks.

He's not going to lie to his friends right now. Not about something this important. "I don't know," he says. "Honestly, I don't even know what I'm going to say, but…" And this part, he knows from what he'd just done, sitting and learning as much as he can about Aita from within his own mind. "But he's not a bad person. He doesn't understand us, because he hasn't had a chance. He's just gone from one bad situation to another, so of course he's going to think we're all the same. I need to convince him he's wrong."

"Sure," Khemu says, but his voice is just ever so slightly doubtful. " Just… convince the homicidal maniac that our entire species deserves to live.

A spike of unadulterated panic flashes through him then. "Don't say it like that," he says. "I'm panicking already. And…" He's hesitating so much already, he doesn't know how he's ever going to manage to give Aita a cohesive argument. Still, he manages to get the words out. "And I don't think he  _is_ a homicidal maniac."

"Oh?" Elina sounds skeptical. "What is he, then?"

No hesitation this time—Elijah knows the answer to that particular question already. "Scared," he says, and hurries on as fast as he possibly can.

-/-

Aita knows there's a battle coming. That's the sixth sense talking, telling him what's going to happen before it does—not that he thinks it would have been that hard to see this coming, even if he was limited to only the five senses that humans have. This, from what he's seen, is how humans exist. They're in a constant state of needing to fight anything and everything that's different from them, and he is  _very_ different from them.

He paces as he waits, listening to the intermittent reports that they're coming, they're getting closer, they're almost here. Aita wishes, at this point, that he could just—go. Only he's not entirely sure how to find his way home again, all the way back through the tens of thousands of years separating his life from this time now.

Then, as Aita is pacing back and forth and trying to come to terms with the reality that people are going to fight and probably die here, and that one of them might even be him, he hears footsteps.

As far as he knows, he's alone in the main floor of the Temple. His people, the ones he'd forcibly recruited, are out waiting for the people that are coming here to attack. No one else should even know to be here, and yet…

Aita's first thought as he focuses his attention on the small figure running toward him is that he must be hallucinating or dreaming because the boy has his face. For a long minute, after the boy has skidded to a stop on the slick stone floor, Aita just stares at him. The boy (Elijah, his sixth sense supplies) is half bent over, hands on his knees, panting for breath. It would almost be funny, Aita thinks, if the situation wasn't so intense.

And then humor gives way to curiosity. There's something so exposed and undefended about Elijah that isn't like anything Aita has seen from humanity so far. He's nonplussed, and temporarily stunned, until finally little bits of knowledge start to come trickling through to him. So he knows, before Elijah is able to breathe normally and speak again, that he is thirteen years old, that he is more isu than any human Aita has met so far, and he is not here to fight.

None of that explains why he's here or what he wants. Aita waits, and eventually Elijah is able to pull himself together enough to talk, even if he is still shaking all over. "I need to talk to you," he says, in Aita's own language.

Aita's not sure how to answer that, but eventually he says, "Who are you?" He knows the facts, but he doesn't know who this boy really  _is_. And he doesn't know why he's run all the way here just to talk to him.

"It's hard to explain," Elijah says. "I know you probably already know a lot about me."

Aita nods. Of course he does.

"But…" He seems nervous about coming closer, but eventually he does. Aita can't help feeling a little nervous about looking down at him, and seeing a boy with his own face looking back up at him. Sage, his sixth sense supplies. There's too much of you in him, and not enough of himself. "I want to tell you a story," Elijah says. "If… that's okay."

There's going to be a battle outside in a few minutes, and Elijah thinks this is a good time for a  _story_ , of all things? Still, Aita nods. He doesn't quite know where this is going, but he has a good feeling about it, somehow. It feels a little like a lifeline, a way out of a war he doesn't want to start.

"Okay," Elijah says. "So, I met this other Sage, in ancient Egypt. I mean… I guess it would still be the future for you, since you're from so far in the past. But he told me there were all these people that we needed to get together, to fight you basically." His voice is somewhere close to apologetic as he says this. "So we went looking for all these people. We went all over the place, to different centuries and different countries all over the world."

Aita reads a lot of complicated emotions coming off of Elijah as he talks about all these places he travelled to. Exhaustion, first of all. The kind of bone deep tiredness that you only get when you've done everything you can and you're still not sure it's  _enough_. But he's also proud of what they have done, and caught up in the wonder of what he's seen in all these places.

"Gon on," Aita prompts.

"So we got all these people here," Elijah says. "And…" He's looking desperate now. "And I  _messed it all up_ because I didn't realize why we needed all those people here, I thought it was going to come down to a fight and so they all thought it was going to be a fight but that was never what we were supposed to—"

"Elijah," Aita says, nonplussed. "Breathe." He's not entirely sure what to make of this panicked human child standing in front of him.

Elijah makes a face. "You're here to decide what to do about humans," he says. "Which is… I mean it's kind of creepy, actually? We're  _people_ , and it's not up to you whether we get to keep  _living._ " His face is so much more open and expressive than Aita is used to seeing on his own face. "I thought I was you for a while," he says.

"What?" Aita asks, totally lost.

"It happens to Sages after a while," Elijah says. His tone has turned solemn, and Aita realizes this is something that he's struggled with and worried about. "We start to get more of your memories and personality and after a while we become you."

Aita cannot imagine this. Not only the general idea of someone not knowing who they are, but the specifics of them thinking they are  _him_. Of… a lot of people thinking they're him, from the sound of it. He does not like this—he  _does not like_ the idea of being pulled into history like this, of his mind being… imprinted on generation after generation, down through the centuries, until…

He looks into the unsettlingly familiar eyes of Elijah Miles, and thinks—well, until we get here.

"When I thought I was you," Elijah says, with obvious care. "I didn't want to fight. I just wanted to learn everything I could about… humans." He struggles with the word, and the way it separates him from the rest of humanity. "And something my friend's mom said made me think there must be a reason why you were acting differently." He takes a deep breath. "But you haven't seen anything good since you came here, and so I thought about it, and then I  _knew_ … that's why I needed to bring all those Assassins and Templars here. It's not to fight, it's because they are good people."

His expression is earnest. "They're good people," he says a second time. " _Talk_ to them, and you'll see. Humans can—we can be pretty terrible sometimes, but the people I brought back with me are… they're all fighting in their own ways to make things better for whatever time and place they live in. And they all came here, out of their own lives, to do whatever they could to help us, even though this is the future for them and it's never going to matter to them what happens here in the twenty first century. So I ran all the way over here because—because you  _need_ to talk to them. Let them show you that we're not as bad as you think we are. We don't have to fight."

Aita very badly wants to avoid a fight, if he's being honest. He's never been much of a fighter, and he doesn't even particularly like war. But. "I'm sure they're fighting by now," he says.

"Then we'll  _stop_ them," Elijah says. "Don't you want that?"

There's something familiar about Elijah—well, of course there is. Looking at him is like looking in a mirror, albeit one that shows him as he was when he was younger. But in a way… it almost makes him homesick. Nothing that Aita has seen, not in the whole time he's been here, has been as close to familiar as Elijah.

His shoulders slump, and he turns away, running a hand over his face.

-/-

Elijah watches Aita. He holds his breath, wishing he  _knew_ what Aita is going to say. The isu is basically a blank slate, and Elijah can't get anything off of him. All he can do is hold his breath, and pray.

Aita's voice, when he finally speaks, is quiet. "I…"

-/-

He gives up, or lets himself be persuaded—one or the other, but either way this fight was never what he wanted. In the end, what it comes down to is this. He needs a way out of this. He is desperate for a way out of this war he never asked for.

(Or did he? It takes two to fight, and while Aita has done everything  _solely_ because he wants to protect himself—he can see why Elijah doesn't see it that way)

"I want to go home," he says. "I didn't come here for a fight, I came here to learn what humanity is capable of." And far and away, Elijah is the brightest spot of hope he's seen since coming here, which is either high praise for him, or proof of how low the bar is here. "So let's call this off," he says, and Elijah…

Elijah bursts into tears. Relieved, joyful tears mixed in with genuine laughter. "Oh my  _God_ ," he says, in English. "It's over."

He repeats it a few more times, until it finally sinks in for Aita. It just—it hasn't before, but now, all at once, he  _gets_ it.

These are actual people. And yes, they're human. They're not isu, and the humans he's used to back home are—they've always been there to serve. They're less than the isu, full stop, or at least that's how Aita's always understood it.

This is the first time that he has fully, completely realized that humans are people too, and that he has come into their lives and ruined… everything. Hesitant and uncertain, Aita takes several steps toward Elijah, who is busy trying to wipe at his face, which is almost painfully red with tears, and crouches down in front of him. Elijah is a scrawny kid that clearly hasn't hit his growth spurt yet, and the isu as a species are taller than humans in any case. Aita tries and doesn't quite succeed in pushing away the feeling of talking to a child.

"This is—'m sorry," Elijah says. "But I just want my dad back. I want to go home, I—" He manages a little bit of composure. "We should go see if it's too late to call this fight off before anyone gets hurt."

He turns, and is off like a shot before Aita even has a chance to say the  _I'm sorry_ that's on the tip of his tongue.

-/-

Khemu has been in plenty of fights by this point, but none of them were ever quite like this. There's a horrible feeling of wrongness, because he knows the people fighting for Aita aren't really  _fighting for Aita_ —they're apple controlled and that's kind of squeamishly wrong.

He can tell he's not the only one that feels that way, because nobody has died yet. Even Elina's dad, who Khemu knows for a definite fact has  _no_ problem with killing people, hasn't stabbed or shot so much as a single person. They're just defending themselves, while the other side fights without consideration for their own safety or the circumstances of the fight. And when one side is fighting to kill at all costs, and the other side is just trying to not die, it only takes one mistake for things to go horribly wrong.

So it's just lucky that nobody has a chance to  _make_ that mistake. Because before the one sided battle really even has a chance to go wrong—

Khemu looks up, and sees the (disorienting) sight of Aita and Elijah walking toward them, side by side.

Hope flares.

Aita's head turns slightly to one side as he examines them all, and then he smiles. It's not a scary smile, so even though Khemu's heart jumps into his throat at the sight of him with the apple, a tiny glimmer of hope remains.

For a frozen moment, he's not sure what's going to happen, and then Aita says, " _Go home."_

And just like that, the battle's over. Every one of the people that Aita had forced to be here just…. Drops whatever they're doing, and goes. They're not even completely out of earshot yet when Khemu hears them starting to talk about doing exactly that, going home—it sounds like they've already forgotten what Aita had forced them to do. Probably for the best.

He's still staring after them, guard down,  _shocked_ that the fight is over with as easily as that, when something runs at him from the side. Khemu almost strikes out just in sheer surprise, but luckily only manages some pathetic flailing.

"Khemu," Elijah says, latching onto him and  _not_ letting go. "I think it's all going to work out."

"No more fighting?" Khemu asks, slightly confused. "I thought… is Aita on our side now?"

"I think he's going to be, if he isn't now," Elijah says. "He's going to talk to everyone, and then—yea. Yea, I think everything's going to be okay."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this fic ever got up to 21 chapters. I can't believe there's only one left!
> 
> Anyway, sorry this took an age and a half, I've been fully distracted by Odyssey.


	22. Chapter 22

Elijah lets Aita take his time talking to each Assassin, and Templar, in turn. He's totally calm, all the way down to his core, because he  _knows_ this is all going to work out. It might take a little while, but it is all going to be okay.

And in point of fact, it takes most of the day. Aita wants to go have these talks in the Temple, where he obviously feels more comfortable, but Elina's dad puts his foot down and refuses to get stuck in there again. Since the rest of them have all just escaped from there, Aita finds himself completely outnumbered and gives in without too much complaint. Elijah's proud of him, in a weird kind of way. He feels sort of responsible for Aita, and seeing him make the first awkward steps toward getting along with them makes Elijah feel like he's doing something right.

So they go to Elina's dad's safehouse, and the whole group crams in while Aita talks to one person at a time in the back room—he talks to  _everyone_ , including Khemu and Elina. They go in last, and together, which surprises Elijah.

"What did he talk to you about?" he asks, when Aita has closeted himself in his room to think about everything he's heard. He's in a corner with his two friends, eating their way through a bag of cold fast food that Elina's dad had gone to pick up about an hour ago. They're all starving, and even if it  _is_ junk food and it  _is_ congealing slightly in that special way that fast food always manages after an hour or two, Elijah has really missed modern food.

"Not too much," Khemu says. "I thought he was going to ask harder questions, but he seemed like he'd already made up his mind."

"Yea?" Elijah asks.

"He sort of apologized," Elina says hesitantly. "For kicking all this off. And he wanted to know what it was like for us doing all that time travel,"

It's probably a good sign, Elijah decides, that Aita is apologizing. Trying to apologize, anyway.

"I think you're right," Khemu says. He points at Elijah with a french fry. "I think he's going to come around."

Elijah grins around a hamburger. "Yea," he says. "I think so too." Honestly, at this point, he's pretty sure Aita has  _already_ come around. He just has to wrap his brain around what he's already decided.

And then the door opens and Aita is standing there, larger than life, leaning against the doorframe. Elijah scrambles to his feet, and for a long frozen moment he and Aita face each other across the open space. Elijah's eyes are fixed on Aita's face, because there's knowing what will happen, and then there's seeing it actually happen.

Aita gives him a nod, and walks across the room to Elijah.

"So," Elijah says quietly. He can't bring himself to ask the question in English, or in any other human language. If Aita says  _no_ , he doesn't want anyone else to know what he's saying when he says it. "Are you going to help us?"

And Aita says, " _Yes_."

Elijah almost breaks down crying. Again. "Thank you," he says instead. " _Thank you_."

"I know I've hurt some people," Aita says. "Your families."

Elijah nods.

"So I'm going to bring them back for you," Aita says, which makes Elijah's heart jump. "And then I'm going to ask you for a favor."

"Sure," Elijah says. He's pretty sure he'd agree to anything right at this second, because Aita has just promised to give him his family back.

Aita holds his gaze. "I may want to come back someday."

Elijah's jaw drops. He's not used to being surprised, much less shocked, but Aita's managed it. "Why?" he asks. "This place has been horrible for you." Even he has some doubts about Aita being here, and he has more reason than most people to trust him. He knows things that other people don't, and he  _knows_ , in this moment, that Aita doesn't want to hurt him.

Aita looks down at him, and sighs. "Sages," he says. "You. The people like you. From what you've told me and what I just… know, none of you have had easy lives. Because of me, and my genetics in you."

Elijah opens his mouth, then closes it again. He's thinking about leaving his mother, and  _knowing_ she was glad to see him go. He remembers all the times he's said too much at school, and all the ways his classmates look at him when they realize how  _weird_ he is. He looks at Aita. "But what could you possibly do?" he asks.

Aita shakes his head. "I don't know yet," he says. "But I do know that I owe you. All of you. And this seems like a good place to start."

Elijah knows it's not technically his fault. He knows the Sages exist because of something  _Juno_ did, without Aita's knowledge or consent. But it feels somehow  _right_ for Aita to want to help. And Elijah, honestly, wants to know him. There's no actual blood between him and Aita, as far as he knows, but… there's no denying that he's somewhere between human and isu. He knows too much, and understands too little.

He reaches out his hand, and lets Aita take it. "Okay," he says. "This sounds like it's going to be complicated—" So,  _so_ complicated. "But why not, right?" He hesitates, then extends the invitation. "Come visit, if you want to."

-/-

Bayek gasps in a breath and immediately collapses as his legs give way under him, and then vomits as his stomach rebels. There's a confusing sense of a lot of time having passed in no time at all, and he's disoriented in a way that doesn't quite make sense to him.

"Breathe," a voice says. "Aita says it's probably going to take you a while to get back on your feet, but there shouldn't be any long term issues. Hang on, I'll get you some water."

Bayek is too busy vomiting until there's nothing left in his stomach to respond. Around him, the sounds of other people doing the same thing, other people walking around, talking… He blinks back dizziness and tries to focus. Before he's fully figured out what's going on, the owner of the voice is back, with one hand on his back and a second hand holding out a Styrofoam cup of water. "Is this going to help?" he asks. "Or do you need something else?"

It's not until he's seen the face that belongs to the voice that Bayek realizes it's Khemu.

He takes the water because it's there, and sits up, still staring at Khemu.  _Khemu_. His son is crouched in front of him, looking almost unrecognizable. Any trace of childishness in his face has vanished, and elsewhere any fat Khemu had been carrying has been changed into lean muscle. There's a knife the size of his forearm strapped to his back, just barely visible poking over Khemu's shoulder.

"You grew up," Bayek says. His voice is hoarse.

Khemu seems physically incapable of smiling at that. "We've been travelling through time to get what we needed to save you guys," he says. His voice, Bayek notices, has dropped. Puberty's hit him hard. "It took a long time, Dad, a couple of years, and I was stuck with some pirates for a while."

" _Pirates_ —"

"It's fine," Khemu promises him. "I did what I had to, and I made it, and…" His eyes are searching Bayek's face, and it's his  _eyes_ that are the same. Grown up, yes. Matured in the way that every other part of Khemu has matured in the two years that Bayek has just  _missed_. But they're still Khemu's eyes. "Dad," he says. "We  _saved_ you guys."

Bayek is genuinely not fully sure what he has been saved for. There are a lot of details here that he doesn't have yet, but one thing he knows for sure is that  _something_ bad has happened to him. He reaches over and hugs Khemu. "Are you okay?" he asks.

"Am  _I_ okay?" Khemu asks. "You got  _frozen_."

"And you grew up," Bayek says. Two years. So Khemu is fourteen, maybe fifteen now. He looks older. He looks  _changed_. Bayek looks at the new muscle on his son, and he sees scars here and there, and he recognizes that Khemu has become a fighter. And more than that…

If he'd grown up in Egypt, then Khemu would have been an adult by this age. He probably  _would_ have been fighting, he would have been traveling with Bayek and training to be a medjay. But here, in the twenty first century? In this place and this time that Khemu has called home since he was a child? Here, fifteen is  _still_ a child, and Bayek is struck with the sudden sad realization that Khemu has lost that, all at once, and worst of all he'd done it without family to help him through it.

He's so lost in thought that he almost doesn't notice Khemu twisting around to talk to somebody behind him. He  _does_ notice when Khemu shouts "Mom! Come over here?"

Amunet comes after only a few seconds, and joins them on the floor with the kind of effortless grace that Bayek always associates with her.

"How do you feel?" she asks him.

"Fine," Bayek says. "I will be fine." He looks between the two of them, then directly at Amunet. "You were with him?" he asks.

"Yes," Amunet says. "Almost the whole time."

"I was on my own with the pirates," Khemu says. He doesn't seem upset about this—if anything, Bayek hears a little bit of pride in his voice. "But Mom's been with me since then, and I had my friends, and now we're all together again."

The grin spreading across his face transforms it. He looks suddenly much younger, and Bayek is so relieved at the sight that he reaches over and hugs Khemu. He's pleased when Senu flies over to perch on his shoulder and then surprised when, after a little bit of encouragement from Khemu, Amunet joins them in the hug.

As the hug ends and everyone starts backing out, Elijah shouts from the other side of the room for Khemu to come help him with something. He makes a sarcastic but not unhappy face, and runs off to join his friend.

-/-

"What's up?" Khemu asks. Elijah is leaning against the far wall, watching the slowly unfolding chaos as Aita works his way through the room unfreezing everyone. "What did you need?"

"Nothing," Elijah admits. "I just had this feeling that your parents need to talk."

"Yea?" Khemu, who hasn't had two parents at the same time since he was too young to appreciate it, is suddenly eyeing them with a new hope.

"Yea," Elijah says. "I mean, no promises, but… it's not going to hurt them to talk."

-/-

"Thank you for taking care of him while I couldn't," Bayek says quietly.

"Of course," Amunet says. "He's my son too."

"I know." It's hard to look her directly in the eye, so Bayek's gaze wanders. There's an awful lot of chaos here, but it's controlled chaos.  _Aita_ is here, but he isn't acting like a threat the way he had been the last time Bayek had seen him. He looks back at Amunet. "This is okay?" he asks. "Aita—"

"Elijah's talked him around, apparently," Amunet says. "I didn't think he would be able to do it, honestly, but… he came through. All the kids have."

"Khemu?" Bayek asks.

"Oh," Amunet says. "Him, I never worried about. He's torn, of course. He's growing up and learning new things about himself, and figuring out who he's going to be. But watching him learn how to protect himself and his friends…" She reaches over, unexpectedly, and grips his hand. "You're going to be proud of him, Bayek. You really are."

"I always have been," he tells her. "Amunet, listen…"

"Aya," she interrupts, completely derailing what he'd been about to say.

He blinks at her. "Aya," he repeats.

"I'm…" She looks uncertain. "It's been an adventure, Bayek," she says at last. "I've seen a lot of things I've never imagined, and Khemu… isn't the only one that's changed."

"Aya," Bayek says, and then he pauses, savoring the taste of a name on his tongue that he hasn't been allowed to say for years. "I'm… glad."

The moment that passes between them is heavy and loaded with history, and it's going to take a long time to unpack exactly what's happening here. "So are you going to stay?" he asks.

"I have no idea what I'm going to do," Aya says. "But I know that I'm not ready to say goodbye."

-/-

Elina can see her dad getting visibly irritated with the amount of noise and activity going on around them, so it seems like a good idea to get him outside and away from it all for a little bit. Besides, she wants to talk to him as soon as she can, and she'd rather do it without anyone else listening in. They're walking along the sidewalk, Elina lost in her thoughts and trying to figure out how to broach the subject, when her dad says, "There's something you want to tell me, isn't there?"

She's never been able to hide from him. "Yes," she says, playing for just a little bit more time before she has to start an argument.

"Well what is it?" her dad asks.

Elina takes a deep breath. "I want to stay here," she says. "Layla's been teaching me things, and I want to keep learning. Khemu learned how to fight from those pirates, and I could see myself learning that too." He's staying so  _quiet_. "I want to be one of the Hidden Ones."

His exasperated sigh is fully insulting. "This isn't a conversation we're going to have," he says, in his  _this is final there is no room for negotiation_ tone. It's always stopped Elina dead in her tracks before but this time, it doesn't.

"Yes it is," she says. "Dad, I can't go back home and act like nothing happened. I'm learning things from Layla and Amunet that I  _love_. I want to see if they'll teach me how to fight like Khemu can, and I want to… Dad, all that time traveling we just did, it made a difference. I want to  _make a difference_."

He's suddenly staring at her like she's something entirely new. Like he's seeing her for the first time.

Elina goes on. "I know we're not going to figure it all out today," she says. "I know it's a big deal, and there's more important things to figure out first. But I'm just trying to tell you that… Dad, I'm  _not_ giving up on this."

And he says, "Fine."

Elina blinks in surprise. "What?"

"Oh, you're right," he says. "This is going to be a  _much_ longer conversation than what we have time for today. But we will have that conversation."

It's more than Elina had expected to get from him on her first try, honestly. "Okay," she says. "Thank you, Dad."

"But on one condition," he says. "When and if you learn how to fight—I'm going to teach you. Not anyone else."

And  _that_ is leaps and bounds past what she'd ever expected to get from him. He's taking her seriously. "Thanks, Dad," she says again.

He puts a hesitant hand on her shoulder—they aren't a very touchy feely family—and gives the shoulder a small squeeze. "Don't think I haven't noticed how well you've handled all this," he says. "It's impressive, and… I'm proud, Elina."

This is kind of one of the best days of he life.

-/-

It feels like a million years since Layla has come crawling to her older self for help, but it's really been… well, it had only been a few weeks, hadn't it? She can't even remember.

The other Layla is still stretching out the aches and pains from being frozen for so long, when Layla goes looking for her, and corners her off on her own. "I feel like… I don't know. We should probably talk." She doesn't feel as inadequate as she had last time. She's facing an older, more experienced version of herself, but now Layla has seen things for herself. She has traveled through time, she has learned what she's capable of and what she's not.

She wouldn't have asked for the world to be put in danger by Aita, but the way it worked out has been… it's good for her.

"Okay," her older self says. "Sure. Here?"

"Not here." She gestures vaguely, out and away. There's nowhere even remotely quiet that they can talk in here, not with everyone running around. "Outside?"

So out they go. There's a sort of alleyway between their building and the one next door, which is a bit grimy but still honestly better than most of the other places she's been lately. City cleanliness was not at an all time high three hundred years ago. Or five hundred years ago.

"You look different," the older Layla says. "How long have you been time travelling?"

"I lost track," Layla admits. "A while."

"It looks like it was good for you."

"It was," Layla says.

"And… what we talked about the last time we saw each other?" Layla asks. "Falling in love through the bleeding effect?"

Layla smiles and shakes her head. "No," she says. "Not anymore. I… it just wasn't right. It's not me. Maybe it could have been, but…"

"You'll find someone," her older self says.

"Have you?"

"Not yet." She doesn't seem concerned. "It'll happen."

"And there are more important things," Layla says. She glances sideways at her other self. "I know what you and Bayek do. You keep time traveling, you fix problems that Juno caused—I kind of want to keep doing that too."

And the other Layla grins. "Absolutely," she says. "We're going to make an amazing team."

-/-

Desmond is among the last to be unfrozen, which means that he gets a heart stopping moment of confusion when he sees Aita, then half an explanation when someone shouts at him that Aita's on their side and he's missed a lot of time travel, and then—

"Dad!"

He'd already known that he's missed some time, because he'd gotten a glimpse of Khemu, and seen how much older he'd gotten, but it's worse seeing Elijah. Desmond reaches out for him by pure instinct as Elijah comes running at him. He's confused—but selfishly relieved—when he sees that Elijah, somehow, has grown less than Khemu.

"We fixed everything," Elijah explains, and Desmond listens. Because he so often knows things that nobody else does, Elijah is good at quickly explaining complicated events. When he's done, Desmond sits back and lets out an exhausted breath. "Just listening to all that was exhausting," he says. "I'm sorry you had to go through it."

"No," Elijah assures him. "It was—I liked it. Most of it. Not being scared for you and everyone, but it was an  _adventure_."

"Just as long as there's no more adventures for a while," Desmond says, and Elijah grins, shaking his head.

"I just want to go back to school and get back to normal," Elijah says. Then he frowns. "Well, maybe a different school. It's going to be hard to explain why Khemu's older if we go back to the same school. But we're going to be normal  _enough_."

Normal enough. Desmond considers, briefly, how he feels about that, then decides he can live with it. Then, with a jolt, he realizes there's something he hasn't said yet that he really should have. "Hey," he says. "Elijah."

"Yea?"

Desmond reaches an arm out, and loops it over his son's shoulders. "I'm proud of you," he says. "You did… you are amazing."

And he doesn't need to look—he doesn't even need a sixth sense—to see that his son is smiling.

"Dad," Elijah says quietly. "Let's go home."

-/-

(One month later)

-/-

West Mountain High School doesn't get all that many new students in the middle of the school year. There will be the occasional student of course, or maybe a few siblings, but having three start all at the same time, halfway through the semester, is a weird coincidence. Not  _bad_ , but at least… odd.

The school's secretary eyes the three of them suspiciously over the top of a sheaf of paper. They're an odd trio, this group. They're sitting in the office's tiny waiting area, separated from the administrative staff by a wall of windows. None of them are looking at her, so she feels safe in snooping.

The only girl (Elina Berg, according to the paperwork, 14 years old and joining the freshman class) is sitting half off her chair, jumpy or restless. It's warm inside, but she's wearing a white hoodie with her hands stuffed into the front pocket and the hood pulled up over her head. A passing teacher snaps at her to take her hood off, and she does. At least until he's out of sight, when she pulls it right back up.

Trouble.

The boy on the other end of the little cluster of chairs (Khemu… something or other. The secretary glances down at her paperwork but isn't really looking for the name—she's already had a meeting with Khemu's fairly intimidating parents, and she can't stop flashing back to that) is fifteen, another freshman although going by his birthday he could have fit into the sophomore class. Apparently he's missed some time, for nebulously defined reasons.

Trouble.

The second boy (Elijah Miles), sandwiched in the middle between his two friends, is technically too young to be here. He's thirteen, still in the middle school age range, but he'd done well on the placement test, he'd  _known_ all the answers…

Trouble.

Elijah looks up just then, giving the secretary a look that says he's perfectly aware of her watching, and she gets a good look at his mismatched eyes as he waves at her. She fights off an involuntary shudder at the brief impression of something… inhuman in his face.

 _Lots_ of trouble.

She shakes of her slight discomfort at being caught watching, and gets up out of her chair. She has a quick lecture that she's given dozens of times before (here's your schedule here's your locker combination class starts at 7:40 promptly don't be late). They listen, and take their schedules, and then head off in what happens to be the right direction. Khemu starts to make a wrong turn as they head off down the hall. Elijah pulls him back, and starts giving him directions that are almost suspiciously accurate. It's like he just  _knows_ the school somehow, already. He's never even been in it before, to the best of her knowledge.

The secretary watches them go, side by side, talking together like the best and oldest friends. Snatches of their conversation drift down toward her, talk about classes and homework and what the rest of the year is going to look like. It's puzzling. There's nothing about them that seems  _that_ weird, but…

Shaking her head, she goes slowly back to her desk. There's just something about them. Almost an… aura, a feeling, that there's more to them than meets the eye.

Trouble.

-/-

And a hallway and a half away, the son of the first Hidden Ones, the daughter of a Templar, and the Sage that has led them across time and space to protect their families walk through a growing crowd of students. None of the teenagers around them know what these three have been through. None of them know that they've traveled through time, or helped save the world.

But Elijah knows. Elina knows, and Khemu knows. And that knowledge is a spark inside them as they head forward into a future that could contain absolutely anything, but will almost  _certainly_ hold…

Trouble.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys this chapter was so hard to write. I hate endings! I'm going to miss these kids so much...
> 
> I'm thinking about doing a couple of epilogue-ish scenes and adding them into Khemu of the Twenty First Century. Maybe a little more Aita, maybe more of the kids... idk if I'll do it what it'll be but I'm not quite ready to let go of these babies yet xD


End file.
